The Romancer Shadowstep
by pooktales
Summary: Last in the series: Plan B17 Alpha, nicknamed ‘the Mission Implausible’ will enable Master Rogue Shadowstep to trap the woman of his dreams in a relationship. But Old Gods, demons, the Horde, the Burning Legion, and worse yet, young people get in the way.
1. Bitter Party of one!

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

(Disclaimer: This story is based upon a game called World of Warcraft. Therefore, I do not claim any rights to their story, or game.)

Hello, and welcome to the last story in The Romancer series. I decided not to spend a lot of time on the Horde side of the story since there is enough excitement for a few episodes, but not half a series. I do hope to write Horde fanfiction in the future, however. Anyways, if you are just tuning in, don't worry because you won't feel lost. Each story in the series can stand on its own two feet, but please feel free to read The Romancer Onyxbane, The Romancer Greatfather Winter, and The Romancer Opalbane if you're curious.

In this final story, Master Rogue Shadowstep, head of the Kaldorei Rogue Network in Darnassus, has finally grown tired of waiting for the woman of his dreams to come around. It is time to implement plan B17 Alpha, nicknamed 'the Mission Implausible.' However, Priestess Feathershine's cooky family, Old Gods, demons, the Horde, the Burning Legion--and worse yet--young people are getting in the way! What's a brilliant but bitter rogue mastermind to do?

**Episode One: Bitter… party of one!**

_Dearest Jebbidiath,_

_I know that I said I was going to Ashenvale to visit my parents, but you can see from the envelope that I'm actually writing from Feralas. So… you know now that I've been lying to you. It's your fault though. You've given me all the time in the world to think about your proposal of marriage. I said no many times, didn't I? At least I thought that I did. But after every conversation we had, you would push the engagement necklace back into my hands and say, 'Deliah, just think about it. Take all the time you need.'_

_But I know you. You meant for me to take all the time I needed in order to come up with the answer you wanted. The summer you first gave me turned into a year, and then three years. What on Azeroth have we been doing together during all that time? Chatting like friends, but spending nights together like lovers. While on vacation, men have started to call on me, but what can I even say to them? That I have a boyfriend? No, this is not true. Perhaps that I am engaged? No, that is false as well. What I have is a friend, a stubborn, manipulative friend who refuses to let me go. I see now that I gave you my answer, my heartfelt answer three years ago when you offered me your wreathe. You did everything in your power to keep me after I rejected you… I'm not so cold that I don't understand why you fought so hard for us._

_But Jebbidiath Shadowstep, it is time to move on._

_You are very special to me. You always will be. You were mine at our very first Springtime, and the love we made then was beautiful. You weren't my first kiss, but you were the very best. You were a friend when I needed you and always a gentleman. However, we've had lots of little chats about how controlling you can be. Everyone has a little flaw, don't they? But, usually, a boy in his fifteenth season doesn't get a girl to go with him for their first Springtime by convincing all the other available young men that she's got a contagious disease. Nor does the love of your life, the man you want to marry, stalk you whenever you're not out on a date together. How could I ever dream of engaging myself to you, Shadowstep? You are handsome and strong-willed, but I just don't feel safe around you. I cannot be in love with a man whom I fear will use me for his own personal ambition before he helps me. It has finally become too painful to be with you…_

The Master Rogue had to put down the old letter then. He leaned back in his chair, and put his feet up on the desk. Both creaked softly with the sigh of aged wood. Every wall of the dark office was covered with stacks of books or bookshelves. The lone window, a round cheerful purple paned glass portal had been completely stifled. The muted Darnassian sunshine attempted to break through. Shadowstep felt the warmth of the light on the back of his neck and scowled.

_I've enclosed the beautiful necklace you gave me. I've worn it for three years now, but it was never really mine, was it? It belongs in your family, and I can never be that person for you. I am truly sorry to have done it this way, Jebidiath, from across The Great Sea. But, I knew that if I tried to tell you in person, you'd trick me out of it somehow, and you see…_

"That, in itself is the crux of our dysfunction." Shadowstep finished the letter aloud. He knew that last line by heart.

_Your Friend,_

_Novice Priestess Feathershine, from Feathermoon Stronghold in Feralas._

Shadowstep's office door flew open then. Second Commander Myrielle Fadeleaf waltzed in on her thigh-high red leather boots. Her hips swayed gently as she made her way over to her mentor's desk.

"Shadowstep. SI: 7 is bothering us about the serial killer case in Stormwind again. Everytime we think the matter is settled, SI: 7 comes along and starts picking at our cover up again. This time, it wasn't enough for them to send a letter complaining that the suicide of the Night Elf murderer who just happened to take his cohorts with him was convenient. Now, they've sent a live person to have a look at our guild roster. I tried, but he's not falling for my usual charm. The Kaldorei Rogue Network needs the steel of a coldhearted bastard to set those Humans right… Shadowstep? Are you listening to me? You've got work to do."

Master Rogue Shadowstep took a while to respond. He sniffled, rubbed his nose and looked away, toward the covered window.

"Just send him away."

"What? Darnassus is on shaky terms with the Humans as it is, after that mess agent Alessandre got us into over in Stormwind. We can't afford to start turning our backs on them—" Myrielle paused when she saw the old letter in Shadowstep's hand.

"No… don't tell me you were reading that again, were you?"

"What the Master Rogue does in the privacy of his office—"

"She's gone, Shadowstep, and that was seventy years ago. All Priestess Feathershine is to you right now is good sex… and I can't even really say that much because I'm not there when it happens." Night Elves lived long immortal lives until recently when the World Tree was destroyed. Shadowstep was about a hundred years old, but he'd only aged slightly, akin to a mature Human man in his forties.

Shadowstep flushed. "Myrielle, this really isn't appropriate."

Myrielle folded her arms across her full chest and sighed. "Fine. I don't like it when we talk about my love life either. But, boss, she's just not that into you. The mysterious Master Rogue thing didn't work for Priestess Feathershine before you even became the head of our organization, several decades ago. Stop beating yourself up about it. I mean, it's more than understandable. Priestesses of Elune tend to have hearts of gold that are far too pristine for them to be slumming it with us shady types."

Shadowstep stood from his desk. "It's time, Myrielle." His steely gaze met hers. "I'm enacting Mission B17 Alpha."

"You mean your master plan to get Feathershine to run away with you? I've nicknamed that 'Mission Impossible.'" She chuckled.

Shadowstep scowled. " 'Mission Implausible' is better… I believe there's at least a very good chance it'll work, or else I will have wasted the last few years of my life planning it. Look here, just get me that codebook. You'll have to stay behind and handle things while I'm gone. I want to review the stages of the mission with you one last time."

Myrielle pouted with her beautiful cherry lips. "Wait! I thought that was just a little inside joke of ours? You mean, you were serious that whole time?!" she floundered.

Shadowstep's ominous steely gaze never left her.

Myrielle smacked her forehead. "The mission has only one stage: allow Feathershine to believe that she's won. It is both complex and efficient, exactly your style. Of course… of course I should have realized you meant it." She raised both eyebrows.

"You remembered." Shadowstep grinned with pride.

Myrielle walked over and hugged her boss. "You might not think so, but I care about what happens to you. You've taught me everything that I know, and I see what you go through to make things work around here. I know that you are a perfectionist and that your biggest frustration is the lack of talent in the KRN. There aren't enough Night Elf rogues who understand you and your vision."

Shadowstep looked at Myrielle sideways. "Is your nose quite brown enough yet?"

Myrielle put a hand on her hip. "I meant all of it. That's why I'm working so hard to make sure you appoint me as the next Master Rogue. If you're going to run off with the love of your life—against her will or not—and retire, then your job should go to someone who fully understands. Don't you think so?"

Shadowstep carefully walked around Myrielle and stepped out into the hallway. "I would still like to consider agent Alessandre and agent Wisthera for the position. Where's that SI: 7 fellow you were talking about?"

Myrielle leaned out into the hallway and pointed in the direction of the main foyer. While the Cenarion Enclave was composed of two intertwined treehouses for druid and hunter trainers, the rogues and the KRN occupied the lowest level, their offices almost nearly submerged underneath the great tree's roots.

"Hello sir. I am Master Rogue Shadowstep." The Master Rogue's commanding voice carried down the dark hallway as he walked over. After the brief greeting, Shadowstep said, "The KRN is a haven for Kaldorei rogues of exceptional talent and passion for things affecting only Night Elves. Therefore, I don't see that you have any place in our offices. After you put yourself out, I expect to receive the inevitable complaint in writing, on SI: 7 letterhead and sealed with Master Mathias Shaw's official mark." The Human man went away swearing. Myrielle smiled.

Shadowstep wasn't finished with the Human yet though. Shadowstep stopped the agent at the door. "I don't know how you all do things over in Stormwind, but in Darnassus, the KRN runs a tight ship. If my people can't follow orders, they live to regret it, or else they break their necks trying. And in my house, young man, we play by my rules." Then, Shadowstep folded his hands behind his back. "Of course for legal reasons, you will note that what I just said was a promise and not a threat. Have a nice day."

It was the most insincere goodbye Myrielle had ever heard. As she watched the Master Rogue turn sharply on his heels and the dark green ponytail of his whip around between he and his quarry she felt a flush of pride.

She saluted her guild leader, then followed Shadowstep back to his office. "Sir, if 'Mission Implausible' fails… I hope you won't think of it as a complete loss? Well, at least not for you. I am certain Priestess Feathershine will live to regret it."

"It won't fail, Second Commander. I've never failed any of my own missions, and I'm certainly not going to let that infuriating woman break my perfect record now that my career is at an end. You're in charge now. I'll be handing my report to you in about forty days."

Myrielle laughed. "How do you know it's going to take just that long?"

Shadowstep disappeared into his office, leaving Myrielle bewildered in the hallway.

"I thought I already explained this to you before, Myrielle. There are three kinds of rogues. The kind that are good at taking people out, the kind who are good at figuring people out, and the kind that pull the strings of strangers like a puppet master."

"You'd be the third type of rogue." Myrielle confirmed that she recalled their months-old conversation.

Master Rogue Shadowstep nodded. "Over the years, I've fixed it so that Priestess Feathershine can't leave Darnassus without incurring High Priestess Tyrande's wrath. If she wants to investigate the evidence I recently planted that suggests there is a threat against her foster children, she's got only one way out. That way out is through me. Since she's far too lofty to fake her own death," Shadowstep chuckled at his roguish joke, "I think she's going to ask me to marry her."

Myrielle gaped at this. "She wouldn't! She couldn't—"

"Alright, alright, perhaps marriage is a strong word. But at the least she is going to initiate a Wreathe Day. Then we'll be pre-engaged to be married for a year, in the Kaldorei tradition. Then, I'm sure that Feathershine will want to spend our little holiday anyplace but within the confines of Darnassus."

"And the forty day timeline is—"

"It takes about that long to sojourn to Felwood, then from there to Azshara, and finally to the Exodar, discovering what 'new information' she's going to think we need."

"With a few extra days left over for a romantic finale to your heroic saving of her children's lives?" Myrielle frowned.

"You are catching on, aren't you? Good work, Second Commander."

Myrielle squinted one eye as she considered how disturbing this was. "Shadowstep… while this may be an impressive show of your manipulative skill, I have to warn you that we women don't work that way. You can't just force someone to fall in love with you. And aren't you worried that if she finds out you were the one who tipped off the Stormwind Guard who sent her daughter Opalbane running across Azeroth as a fugitive nine months ago," Myrielle had to take a deep breath here, "Only for Opalbane to show up again in Silithus as a Twilight Cultist, and then that you used agent Wisthera to spy on Feathershine when they went to save Opalbane, and finally, that you used agent Alessandre keep Opalbane in danger while she recovered in Stormwind… all so that Priestess Feathershine would beg you to come to the rescue, though she never actually did… what was I saying again?"

Shadowstep scowled. "Feathershine won't be mad at me, because she's not going to find out."

Myrielle raised her hands, palms open defensively between them. "Hey, I've kept my mouth shut up until now. I'm happy to keep quiet for your sake."

Shadowstep stood behind the desk and picked up Priestess Feathershine's old letter. Even though she had been a teenager and a novice priestess at the time, she should have known that writing a letter was the worst possible way to break up with someone. Shadowstep rolled it up carefully, then tied the frayed blue ribbon around it. Blue was Priestess Feathershine's favorite color.

"Good. Because my sources tell me that a certain important meeting of mine will be interrupted tomorrow with whatever Feathershine thinks her surprise is. This is my last day as a single man."

Myrielle wrinkled her brow with worry. "I just don't know about this…"

"My methods for romancing Feathershine are for me to know and you to find out." He sharply cut her off. "Now, I believe you have some work to do somewhere else in the office?" it wasn't a question. Shadowstep sat back down at his desk and Myrielle excused herself.

"Soon…" Shadowstep brooded after the door closed. He propped his boots up on the desk and played with the letter in his fingers. Then he went in his desk drawer and retrieved the aqua green lock of Priestess Feathershine's hair. This was also tied with an old blue ribbon, but the hair sample was fresh. The Master Rogue closed his eyes and inhaled deeply of the woman's scent.

"I can hardly wait." He smiled alone in the darkness.

Your mission--should you choose to accept it--is to read and find out just how everything that can go wrong will go wrong… when a mean and bitter old man hastens toward his long overdue comeupings.


	2. Fake Wreathe Days run in the family

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Two: Fake Wreathe Days run in the family**

Good to see you accepted the assignment. I warn you however, that this series will self-destruct in 30 episodes…

Master Rogue Shadowstep looked every man in the eye before he concluded his presentation. Each spymaster of the Alliance leaned forward in their seats, impatient to hear the findings of what the retiring Shadowstep promised was the most groundbreaking investigation of his career. Second Commander Myrielle Fadeleaf sat on his right.

"And so, from what my intelligence indicates," Shadowstep told his colleagues around the meeting table, "Van Cleef is working in Westfall with the Goblins to ship minerals across The Great Sea to agents of the Steamwheedle Cartel. If we challenge them, they will only deny it; that's why the Goblins are not working under that name."

"Much like the Venture Co. Why didn't we think of this before!" Dwarven Spymaster Ranthiel Goldstein sputtered. The normally stalwart Dwarven Master Rogue had been drinking steadily since before the meeting and he leaned a little out of his chair.

"It's all about business to them." Shadowstep nodded and continued, "The Steamwheedle Cartel is actually behind many illegal operations in Azeroth, each generating its own brand of hardship for the locals. Take Colonel Kurzen in Stranglethorn Vale for instance—"

"Or, the Sludge Fen in Kalimdor, and then there's that massive dig in Windshear Crag, right across the mountains from Night Elf lands!" Human Master Rogue Mathias Shaw put in.

"Gentlemen, I have indeed made a profound discovery." Shadowstep agreed, moving the conversation forward. "The Steamwheedle Cartel is behind nearly all the mischief in our homelands, and working under subsidiaries to hide how they profit. Though they are no doubt pulling the strings from Undermine, we aren't so far off from making a case against them. I brought you all here today because I have a plan, one so heinous and complex that no man alive will ever be able to—"

"What's that noise?" interrupted Second Commander Myrielle. Her voice was practiced and mechanical. Then she sighed and gave Shadowstep a disappointed look. He acknowledged their little secret with a half-smile.

"I'm not sure, Second Commander Myrielle. I guess I'd better go and see what the matter is." Shadowstep said innocently. Then he whispered to Myrielle, "She's right on time, just like I planned. Well, I guess I'm off. Think you can handle the meeting from here, Myra?"

"Certainly." She intoned back. "Now remember, when Feathershine begs you to offer your wreathe again, try to look surprised at least. I know that you'll be itching to gloat over your success." She frowned.

Shadowstep chuckled softly and made his way to the dark tunnel leading up to the surface. It was the only way in and out of the KRN headquarters.

A delightful and slightly annoying melody carried down the tunnel entrance as soon as Shadowstep left. Then, he immediately rushed back into the Main Foyer, terrified. A cheerful army of novices marched close behind on his heels. They were singing:

"…And thank the Elune for Jebidiaaath,

For Feathershiine has found her beau,

And for all Darnassus to watch and wondeer,

At how Elune blesses true looove."

A double file of novice priestesses marched into the room. Their bright yellow and green robes stood out sharply against the dark, lantern-lit foyer. Their movements were evenly matched, like soldiers. Each young woman carried a small bunch of pink flowers. They surrounded Shadowstep, Myrielle, and their renowned guests, then folded their hands in prayer front of them. The flowers they set on the floor, bending down gracefully in perfect unison. The whole synchronized affair was impressive.

"What on Azeroth is going on?" Shadowstep demanded of the happy girls. They went on singing and would not answer him.

"Who's Jebidiath?" the Gnome spymaster everyone called 'The Steamer' scowled.

"Oh, well Jebidiath is—"

"Don't answer that question!" Shadowstep growled at Myrielle.

"What's going on here?" Mathias Shaw cocked his head at Shadowstep. "This is important business… as if it weren't enough that you spurned one of my agents yesterday, now you're sabotaging an important Alliance investigation? You very _own _investigation?" Mathias Shaw looked angry. "You promised us that the KRN was the safest place to meet, Shadowstep."

"Why are there interruptions?" the Dwarf Goldstein demanded. He sounded more than a bit surly.

"I… I don't know what's going on." Shadowstep fretted. Myrielle looked concerned too.

"Jebidiath Shadowstep!" Priestess Feathershine was last to emerge from the dark hallway. A younger priestess, named Windsong stood by her side. Feathershine gestured to Windsong and the woman nodded in turn. She raised her wand above her head, as would a conductor, and abruptly swept out her arms to signal for silence. The song ended instantly.

"Priestess Feathershine? What are you doing—" But that was when Shadowstep noticed what the enchanting priestess was wearing. It was the most beautiful dress he had ever seen.

Delicate pink lace, the exact color of her skin made Feathershine look naked from far away. Then, she came into the light and it became clear that she was, in fact, wearing something. As if that weren't enough, the near transparent lace had been stitched tight over her curves and revealed much of her body underneath. Feathershine was Shadowstep's age, to be sure, but she'd only become more alluring as time wore on. As a young woman she had been slimmer, but now when she walked with her graceful deliberate air, rounded hips swayed like a deadly cobra. The shoulders leaned back then slowly roved forward in what Feathershine did not seem to realize was a kind of womanly strut, she did it so naturally. Her exquisite bosom rose and fell in a way that distracted like the sun itself moving through the heavens.

The unflinching confidence of this woman propelled her near perfect feminine attributes into an aggressive battle with Shadowstep's better sense. Yet, somehow, this seductive woman was also a Priestess of Elune? How many times had Shadowstep fancied that Feathershine would make an excellent rogue with her disarming beauty? Then, just as quickly, he would admonish himself for daring to think of changing her, the woman of his dreams. Priestess Feathershine was the sort of woman who should not exist: as wise and virtuous as Elune, but who also possessed a natural mien that could engender the worst kinds of thoughts and impulses in men. It made the Master Rogue's knees feel weak. Seventy years had gone by, and Shadowstep still felt like he was seeing Feathershine for the first time.

The Dwarf spymaster Goldstein let out a low whistle. "She's a priestess, you say?" he whispered to Myrielle.

Shadowstep had not turned to see, but felt the hungry gazes his colleagues shoot through him to his secret love. Hot jealousy began its slow burn deep in his gut. Shadowstep's jaw tightened.

"Seventy years ago, you asked me to wear your wreathe but I did not answer you." Priestess Feathershine tilted her chin up with the air of a queen, and a silken authoritative tone roiled up from her throat to match.

Beside Shadowstep, Myrielle snickered, and told the other Alliance master rogues, "From what I remember, and I _do_ because I hear a certain someone complain about it all the time, Feathershine answered all right. She said 'No.'"

"Myra—" Shadowstep warned. The Second Commander was definitely enjoying this too much.

"It was definitely 'No', because every year on that day you cry and keep the whole KRN up with your pity party." She ignored her boss's warning. Now that she'd unofficially taken over things, Myrielle was getting cocky.

"Myrielle! That's enough!" Shadowstep's eyes bulged. But it was too late. Shadowstep's colleagues Mathias Shaw, Master Rogue Goldstein, and The Steamer started laughing as well.

Priestess Feathershine cleared her throat and went on with her loud speech. "I regret that I rejected you all those years ago because I broke your heart, and we wasted so much time. But, today, I have come here with my novices to celebrate our love. I have made up my mind about you, Jebidiath Shadowstep." She announced.

Shadowstep cringed. He expected Feathershine to interrupt his meeting, but had not imagined anything as grand as this. He was embarrassed, caught between his laughing superiors and the woman he truly ached for.

"Can we discuss this outside?" his voice broke.

"My answer is yes."

Shadowstep froze. Hearing the woman he loved say those words, especially in that dress, affected him in a way that he was not prepared for.

"Sir? Sir, are you alright? I think he needs to sit down—" Myrielle exaggerated. She could not stop smiling.

"You… _want _to marry me?"

"That is not what a Wreathe Day is silly." Feathershine narrowed her long emerald eyebrows at him. "I agree to marry you sometime in the future, if it's still a good idea, and Elune allows us to live that long."

"Works for me." Shadowstep shrugged. There was a dumb smile on his face.

"Furthermore, to make up for all those years I made you wait, I propose that we have one extra day added to our Wreathe Day for every year that was wasted."

Myrielle began to guffaw in a very unladylike way. All the other Kaldorei agents who-- like good rogues--were obviously listening in on their boss's meeting, came out of their offices into the Main Foyer. They started laughing at their guild leader too. Everyone, it seemed, knew about Shadowstep's secret romance.

"What in blazes does that mean!" Dwarven Master Rogue Goldstein asked on behalf of himself the other spymasters who didn't get the Kaldorei joke.

"Well, the real point of a Wreathe Day is for a Kaldorei couple to have sex for the first time."

"Don't explain to him!" Shadowstep snapped at Myrielle, and then whispered, "I'm going to get you for enjoying this at my expense."

The Steamer stared up at the ceiling as he did a mental calculation. "Does that mean… she's offering you seventy days of guilt-free—"

"Now that's what I call a woman!" the Dwarf Goldstein interrupted. "And a fine looking lass at that—"

"Don't dare talk about my woman that way!" Shadowstep blurted out. The rogues flew into another bout of laughter at his expense.

Myrielle nudged Shadowstep again and whispered, "Oh, and by the way, she's given you seventy days of Wreathe Day honeymoon, but your contract says forty. I still expect your completed mission report by then."

Shadowstep raised both eyebrows at his second commander. She really had followed in his footsteps… but he didn't feel so proud about it now.

"Shadowstep?" Priestess Feathershine interrupted his muted conversation with Myrielle.

"Yes, Deliah?" Shadowstep whimpered. The rogues leaned over on their knees and held their sides, hearing their guild leader melt like that. Shadowstep blushed red. "…Err, I mean, Priestess Feathershine?"

"Well? Are you just going to stand there? What is your answer?"

The laughing of the other rogues rose to fever pitch. Shadowstep hesitated.

"That's not how it works," Shadowstep began picking at details to make himself feel better. "I'm supposed to ask you… then you're supposed to be flattered and… be the _woman _for Elune's sake!" he shouted at her, embarrassed. How emasculating was this?

"It seems you need convincing. I was prepared for that, however. Novices?" Priestess Feathershine made a cue to Windsong, who raised her wand and began to count out the beat for another verse of the song:

"… And on their first Springtime he took her tooo the foreest,

Where squirrels play and little fawns juuump,

But for some reason he could not finiiish,

So they dated after until he got it—"

"Gaah! Alright, yes, I do! Where's the damn wreathe!"

Everyone in the Cenarion Enclave roared with laughter on hearing about their fearsome leader's embarrassing first Springtime. Night Elves were generally very liberal and encouraged their children to go out into the forest and enjoy having sex for the first time. However, Shadowstep clearly had a terrible time of it. Feathershine was supposed to keep something so embarrassing from his youth a secret! Only a Priestess of Elune would be so obsessed with temple gossip as to use it like a weapon against him. _Damn this matriarchy we have going…_ Shadowstep thought.

Two novices standing near the doorway got a pink wreathe of flowers from Priestess Windsong, then ceremoniously walked over and placed it on Shadowstep's head. His high green ponytail made it sit off center, and helped transform his staunch swept back hairdo into something girlish. Then all the girls cheered and tossed flower petals in his direction. Shadowstep's violet skin turned even redder.

Priestess Feathershine walked over and took his hand in hers. "Just so we're clear," her sweet warm breath against his cheek made Shadowstep inhale sharply. "Even though I brought the wreathe and the traditional roles are reversed, you're still buying _me_ all the Wreathe Day presents this evening." Then she blew kisses to the cheering crowd and waved at them with a polite hand raised above her head. She gestured like a queen, tilting her wrist just so.

As he scanned the room, Shadowstep was horrified to see that even the hunters and druids had come downstairs to see what the commotion was. The monstrous Archdruid towered over the slew of tree-huggers from upstairs, and even his stern face was split by a bemused smile.

"What in Elune's name is wrong with you, coming in here and embarrassing me in this way? Don't you care about me at all?" Shadowstep growled angrily. Then sober realization washed through him: Feathershine was only doing what he'd forced her to do.

Priestess Feathershine smiled for the sake of the crowd. "I'm using you, I'm afraid. We need to get away from Darnassus and fast without Tyrande suspecting I'm up to something again. This whole performance is loud and obnoxious, isn't it? However, Tyrande will certainly hear about it by tomorrow and believe we're sincere when I ask her permission to leave Darnassus. And… I'm afraid the dress, the song, and speech were necessary to convince you. You're always so suspicious of everything I do and I couldn't leave any room for you to decline. I'm so sorry Jebidiath, but this was the only thing Windsong and I could come up with on such short notice."

"Wait… you're manipulating me?" Shadowstep balked. Certainly, he'd pushed her into it, but all the grand singing, and the breathtaking dress… for a brief moment he'd really believed in it. Shadowstep's heart sank. This was the only way he could have Feathershine, wasn't it? He started to regret manipulating her into it. He felt pathetic.

Shadowstep fairly pouted. Some feet away, he thought he saw Myrielle mouth, "I told you so."

Then, something occurred to the Master Rogue. He cringed at having to confirm, "So… you're not really offering me seventy straight days of—"

"Absolutely not! What part of 'I'm using you' don't you understand? Just what kind of woman do you take me for?" Feathershine put her hands on her hips. Shadowstep wanted to cry.

Author's Note:

I update this fanfiction once a week, so at the least you'll get one episode weekly. Sometimes I go crazy and post more than one at a time. Oh, and I don't really know that this story will be 30 episodes long; that was just for fun. Happy reading!


	3. Zar'teaus has a Master fetish too

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Three: Zar'teaus has a Master fetish too  
**

Master Rogue Shadowstep decided that if his Wreathe Day was ruined, then at least his night would go well.

Shadowstep went about shuttering the windows to his treehouse apartment as calmly as possible. Feathershine relaxed at the dinner table, munching on the dates he'd bought her from the vendors earlier. Another part of the Kaldorei Wreathe Day tradition, bags and parcels of gifts Shadowstep bought for Feathershine were stacked all around the room. Finally, Shadowstep slipped into the bedroom and lit a row of romantic red candles.

"Coming to bed dear?" he asked innocently.

Feathershine yawned when she entered the room. She kicked off her shoes and lay down without taking off her clothes. Shadowstep frowned at this, but pushed all disappointment from his voice. He lay down beside the woman he loved and raised her hand to his lips. He began to kiss it gently.

"Oh," Feathershine sighed happily. Shadowstep smiled too, until she said, "How I adore that Windsong."

"What?" Shadowstep flared.

"This was all her idea, isn't it brilliant! I hear that even Tyrande herself approves. Now I can disappear for two whole months and hold my investigation uninhibited."

"This was _not_ Windsong's idea." He scowled. Shadowstep's sharp jaw and intense gaze gave him the look of a man made of steel, the type of man who would not stand for anyone's nonsense, even if it was coming from someone he cared about. Though Shadowstep's moustache and hair was a playful bright green the man was so deathly serious one never doubted he was a hard-nosed rogue mastermind.

Feathershine was not intimidated by Shadowstep though. She raised an eyebrow at her date. Shadowstep realized that he misspoke and cleared his throat. "I mean, dearest, you shouldn't give credit where it isn't due. Certainly, this Wreathe Day was your own idea… that is, I mean to say, _you_ were the one who decided to finally come to me after all this time… in the name of love?"

Good save, Shadowstep.

Priestess Feathershine snatched her hand away from her new... old...err... new/old boyfriend. "Seventy years ago, I told you that you were too bullheaded and callous to ever marry, and I meant it. Besides, I told you it was a lie up front. Don't go on insisting that it was real, to trick me."

Shadowstep sighed at Feathershine seeing right through his tactic. Some people might argue that he should be grateful to have such an honest lover. However, that Feathershine did not even try to pretend in order to spare his feelings hit home. Priestesses had a strange compulsion to tell the truth at all times, no matter who got hurt, unlike rogues who Shadowstep felt—deceitful or not—came off more tactful.

"Woman, you are infuriating! That was the most important day of my career, and not only did you ruin it, but you broke my heart again in the process!"

Priestess Feathershine ignored him. "My children Opalbane and Onyxbane are in a lot trouble, Jebidiath. I've been receiving letters from the Old God Zar'teaus himself, and I think someone is stalking me."

Shadowstep's mood shifted instantly. He tried not to laugh.

Feathershine narrowed her eyes at him. "I know that _you_ still stalk me, but that's different, I know that you can't help yourself. I'm talking about a dangerous person who wants to do me harm."

Shadowstep was unraveled a bit to learn that Feathershine knew about some of his worse habits, and forced himself to be serious. "Zar'teaus is trapped in a windstone down in Silithus, don't be silly Feathershine. You may like to think like a rogue, but you'll never be a good one."

"I have no wish to! Besides, I know what I'm talking about. He escaped! Zar'teaus left and now he's loose in Azeroth, looking to harm my babies again! I'm not sure what he's up to this time, Shadowstep, but you have to help me find out."

Shadowstep just stared. Her interpretation of the evidence he planted wasn't exactly what he'd planned. He was tempted to ask, but knew that prying further would reveal he had a role in putting the clues there in the first place. Shadowstep told himself that Feathershine just imagined some of it.

"Master Rogue…" Priestess Feathershine crept closer to Shadowstep and began to kiss his neck.

"Now wait just a minute, I'm not sure what you want me to help you do, but we're not going to go get into any danger—"

"Oh, Master, we're done discussing it, aren't we?" Feathershine reached up and wrapped her arms around her lover's neck. Shadowstep swallowed, nervous.

"Deliah, we can't just rush into this without—" Priestess Feathershine began to kiss Shadowstep behind the ears. He opened his mouth in a silent gasp of pleasure.

"I like it when you call me that." She pressed into him. Feathershine was determined not to hold anything back now that she was so close to achieving her goal. "And I happen to know… that you like it when I call you…"

"Deliah, no. You know that I can't focus when you--"

"Master." She whispered in his ear. Shadowstep forgot about the Mission Implausible in that moment.

Shadowstep inhaled sharply. "Fine. I'm yours then. I'll do whatever it is you want."

Priestess Feathershine hopped up and started clapping instantly. She bent to put her shoes back on.

"Just where do you think you're going? We have a Wreathe Day to finish."

"I have to pack, Jebidiath. And my novices will need time to—"

Shadowstep laughed evilly. "Sweetheart, you are dealing with the Master Rogue. You can't just use me and leave me like this, oh no. I'm only helping you on two conditions."

Feathershine frowned and sat back down on the bed. "Why do I feel like I'm being manipulated—"

"First, this is merely a reconnaissance mission." Shadowstep interrupted her. "We are only gathering information. No fighting, no slaying of gods or monsters. We aren't equipped to wage a war on behalf of High Priestess Tyrande, and it would be our hides if we did."

"Done."

"Good. Now, here's the second. Since we are going under cover, we have to play along with this Wreathe Day idea of yours."

"We do _not_! Priestess Windsong cleverly suggested it as a way of getting me out of Darnassus, so that High Priestess Tyrande would not suspect. I'm still on her bad side after that Stormwind fiasco with my daughter Opalbane you know. Once I'm free of Darnassus, we can do whatever we want."

"But that _is_ what I want, for the next seventy days according to you. Those are my terms."

Priestess Feathershine scowled at him in the darkness. "You are frustrating! You can sleep with me whenever you want, you know. We've been sneaking around for years."

"Well, I'm tired of sneaking around. This time we can be, or at least _pretend_ to be official, and I have a good feeling this kind of luck is never going to fall into my lap again." And after yesterday, Shadowstep was pretty sure he was right about that statement.

"Those are my terms." Shadowstep grasped her by the shoulders and insisted aggressively. In the red light of the candles, Priestess Feathershine's rose colored skin flushed an enchanting shade, and it made her forest green hair seem electric.

A fiery defiant look blazed in the eyes of the Priestess of Elune, but Shadowstep stared her down. At the point where one thought Feathershine might slap her boyfriend for treating her so roughly, the priestess melted in his arms.

"I love when you do that." She conceded in a small voice, and sighed happily as he pulled off her dress and covered her bare skin with kisses.

"Oh, and by the way, this is going to be the very opposite of our first Springtime, and I am certainly going to get you back for telling the novices about my little problem back then."

Feathershine giggled. "It happens to every guy didn't you know that?"

But what he did next silenced Feathershine's relentless teasing. Jebidiath Shadowstep had certainly grown into a man after all those years and that first shy attempt.

_Somewhere in Ashenvale…_

_Let me out._ The ominous voice whispered in Adeiline's head. It was so sinister, it made her skin crawl, and that was saying a lot, because Adeiline was Undead.

She pulled the glass jar out of her saddlebag and unscrewed the top. They weren't the best accommodations for someone as great as the Old God Zar'teaus, but it was the best she could do for her dark master on such short notice.

_That feels better, thank you High Priestess._

Adeiline's eyes glistened. Her heart raced in her rotting chest, which felt hollow until the day she'd met Zar'teaus through the Twilight Cultists. And then… after all those years, she realized the true meaning of her life, found the center of her universe. It was not the cult, the Twilight's Hammer was just something she'd been trying out after leaving the Forsaken and Lady Sylvanas behind. The Dark Lady had done a great deal of good for the Forsaken, even restoring to them their free will from the Lich King. However, Adeiline still felt lost. She'd lost too much in life, and simple revenge on the Lich King would not be enough. Adeiline was bereft in the worst way…

But when Zar'teaus asked her to become his High Priestess, he changed all that for her.

"Am I really better than Opalbane? Am I really more loyal, and more attentive, Master Zar'teaus? Please tell me that I am." Adeiline looked ready to cry.

Zar'teaus was little more than a gray fog now. He had an arm left, but it was dilapidated and still melting away. Convincing Adeiline to pledge her entire being to him had been the first step, and an important one, but they still had a long way to go if he were to regain his old powers.

_Oh, my most hallowed servant, you are better than Opalbane in every way._

This wasn't true. Opalbane was a powerful shadowpriestess, and of course there were _other_ reasons why Zar'teaus wanted the beautiful Night Elf as well. But the Priestess of Elune called Feathershine had stolen Opalbane away from him. Then, the rogue Alessandre had thwarted Zar'teaus' attempts to get her back permanently. Zar'teaus could not have her back now. All he had left of Opalbane was her cold betrayal.

Adeiline lay prostrate on the ground before Zar'teaus. The small eerie blue campfire flickered and cast strange shadows over them both.

_What are you doing? Put that out!_

"But Master, the fel light is good for you—"

Zar'teaus pulled a long, tortured breath. _You are always so good to me, Adeiline. You helped me along the last and worst of my twelve steps back to godhood. You even refreshed my demonic rune, brought me blankets when I was cold, and then there were the fel capsules and the recitations…_

"All important to keep up your strength, Master." Adeiline smiled up at him.

_But…_ Zar'teaus hissed, _We are not with the cultists now are we? We escaped from their camp, and they are searching for us, SO PUT OUT THAT DAMNABLE BEACON!_

With a little terrified cry, Adeiline ran to do as she was told. Zar'teaus grimaced. Opalbane would have been far more intuitive, and obedient. "I'm sorry, Master. I forgot how tenacious the Twilight's Hammer can be, sending agents to every end of Azeroth just to find those who shirk their treatment, or fail to pay what is owed. But we aren't going to Darnassus, are we? I heard they sent a great deal of cultists there, after the priestess…"

_Shh! Now, kneel before me. You will need to pray to me this evening and perhaps all night to give me strength, for I am fading fast. _

Adeiline knelt before the gray smoking Old God. Her holey jaw rotted, but the words of praise were most important to Zar'teaus, the worshipper mattered not.

"What shall I pray for, Master?"

Zar'teaus floated idly over his dingy glass jar, thinking about his answer.

_Pray that we find Onyxbane and Opalbane in time. Pray that I grow strong on their spilled blood, pray that when the curse ends, my new reign of terror can begin. _Then, Zar'teaus expanded until the gentle blue lights near the road in the distance and the peaceful purple moonlight foilage of Ashenvale was muted. _When again I achieve my true form, regain my power, Azeroth will see such a sundering… something to rival even Hakkar when he was in this world, something to rival even the pitiful Burning Legion!_

Adeiline cackled evilly with Zar'teaus after, but then a peculiar thought came to her and she stopped short. "Zar'teaus, you aren't really jealous of Hakkar, are you? I know that you and he used to date, but… if all this is to upstage him, then I've just thrown away my career as a cultist for nothing."

_SILENCE!_ Zar'teaus thundered. Adeiline cowered before her Old God.

_We old gods don't really have genders, so you can't call it dating per se… evenso, he was being a bitch to me back then, and I don't want his name spoken in my presence. This is strictly about that infuriating Priestess Feathershine and her orphan whelp children. Oh yes, and I almost forgot that I took a blood oath during Winter's Veil to destroy that damnable Shadowstep too. _Zar'teaus frowned with the memory._ He threatened me! Can you believe he threatened even _me,_ an old god?_

"So… this is about revenge?" The pale Undead woman got a twinkle in her eye. "Because, I don't mind disobeying the Twilight's Hammer Cult for revenge. Vengeful Old Gods are the best!" she smiled and clapped her hands together.

_That's enough praying. Just put me back in the jar, Adeiline._ Zar'teaus grumbled. There was nothing more disturbing than a cheerful Undead. In Zar'teaus' many thousands of years in painful existence, he was unhappy to find that annoyance was one of the last sensations to leave him.

_That same night, once again in Darnassus…_

Shadowstep carefully withdrew his arm from around his new… or old, or old-new girlfriend. Feathershine slept peacefully, a pleasant smile on her face. He reached down and picked the pink lace dress up from off the floor.

"I can't believe she wore this…" then he laughed to himself. "I can't believe this is even a _dress_. Thank the goddess for Willypearl and all the tailors who've started to specialize in Lingerie after her." The chain of stores called Willy's Secret had only been in business for five months or so, but they were now the most popular place for members of the Alliance to do their shopping.

Shadowstep smirked in the darkness then lay back down beside his girlfriend. She stuck deep in slumber.

"All this… all this after I place a few forged letters." He whispered. Then, he gently stroked the priestess's soft green hair. "Zar'teaus, is not coming after you my dear, nor are any of his strange cultists. While I help you learn that for yourself, you will fall madly in love with me again, I promise. Then… you will retire with me and we can be truly happy, forever."

Tragic, hollow words they were.


	4. Something special for Mom's Day

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Four: Something special for Mom's Day**

"What's so great about being a mother?" Shadowstep frowned at his girlfriend. Priestess Feathershine got up very early the next morning and began packing Shadowstep's things which he found incredibly annoying. However, he did not dare remind Feathershine she had things to pack at her place and indulged the woman he adored if it meant she would visit with him longer.

"Hmm? What's that dear?" Feathershine raised a critical eyebrow at a pair of raggedy old underthings she was folding then abruptly shook her head and tossed it in the trash.

"Hey!" Shadowstep flared.

"You really do need to take better care of your clothing, dear. And who asks that sort of question? Of course being a mother is wonderful. I adore Opalbane and Onyxbane."

The Master Rogue folded his arms underneath his head and tried to relax. "Well anyone can see you like those orphan whelps. What I don't understand is the _act_ of mothering. Those two are not your own flesh and blood. They aren't adorable chubby-cheeked children anymore. Why do you still waste time fretting over them, and... don't you dare throw that out! That's my favorite shirt!"

Priestess Feathershine turned around to show Shadowstep the black shirt she was folding. A large dark red stain covered the left breast pocket. "You rogues and blood... the least you could do is soak it in cold water after. How old is this stain?"

Shadowstep's brow knit together in frustration. "I don't know... does cold water really make that much of a difference? I just wear it under my armor so no one can see it."

Priestess Feathershine rolled her eyes. "Well not anymore it won't. It's too late to fix it." Then she callously tossed Shadowstep's treasured possession in the trash bin as well.

"Woman!"

"Onyxbane and Opalbane are not _orphan whelps_ now, nor were they ever. I so resent you calling them that. They are children of Elune, precious beings just like you or me or anyone else. When their parents were brutally murdered before their eyes by demons in Felwood, it scarred them deeply. Perhaps the other priestesses in the temple wanted them gone after no one came to adopt them, but I showed Opal and Onyx compassion. I loved them then, and I love them now. In fact, with Zar'teaus loose they still need my help."

"Zar'teaus is _not_ loose, like I told you–"

"And even if I am just their foster mother," Priestess Feathershine interrupted, "I am _still_ their mother. Being a mother means that you make a commitment to raising someone and giving them every little thing that they need to grow up right. Love, support, or even incurring their wrath when you have to stand by what's just."

Shadowstep and Feathershine were quiet as they both recalled the incident she was referring to. Opalbane had run away from Darnassus about a year ago to become a shadowpriestess, forsaking the priesthood of Elune. Feathershine had been heartbroken about it.

"That boy of yours is still a pervert, and I'm not going to comment on Opalbane, that's too obvious."

Priestess Feathershine left off folding Shadowstep's clothing in piles at the edge of the bed.

"Do you know why I do any of this!" she shouted at him suddenly. Shadowstep flinched. "Because it needs to be done. Even if I fail... even if those two never recover from seeing the murder of their real parents..." she hesitated to admit that she was not in fact their actual mother, "If Onyxbane shacking up with that brash con artist Wisthera is still a mark of his fixating on the wrong women after Felwood, and if Opalbane became a shadowpriestess and then married that volatile assassin Alessandre because she still secretly wants murderous revenge on those who hurt her parents... at least I tried! Shadowstep, are you so cruel that you would diminish every effort I've made to save these children? I love them... I feel so helpless because deep down I know that I'm a failure of a mother, but I adore Opal and Onyx. I have to keep trying." Then Priestess Feathershine began to cry.

Shadowstep walked around the bed and held her. He let Feathershine cry into his shoulder.

"Deliah... I'm sorry I teased you about it. I didn't understand until now."

"They mean the world to me, Jebidiath." she sobbed, "I would give everything I had, even my life to ensure their safety."

Shadowstep softened. "I feel that way about you too."

"No." Feathershine pushed out of his arms. "You are selfish. You want to own me. That is not what mothers do. That is not what mothering is." Feathershine pulled open another one of his drawers and began to fold more clothing.

And now, watching Feathershine worry over him was not so annoying. It made Shadowstep happy to see someone do something for him, not because they had roguish motivations and wanted anything out of it, but simply because they cared.

"I guess... I guess I was always jealous of those two."

Priestess Feathershine glared at Shadowstep over her shoulder. "Tell me something I don't know."

Shadowstep patiently pushed forward through the blow to his pride. "You are a good mother."

Priestess Feathershine paused, then said, "Thank you. After all these years, and all this struggle you are the only person to ever say that to me."

Shadowstep wrapped his arms around Feathershine and then kissed her cheek. "You're a darling, Deliah. I'll say it every day if you like." Then Feathershine smiled and kissed him back.

_That evening across the Great Sea at Pontier Manor near Stormwind..._

Onyxbane the warrior belched loudly after dinner and Wisthera angrily jabbed him in the gut.

"Ow!"

Alessandre the rogue chuckled softly and leaned forward on an elbow. He had dark purple skin the color of living shadow and rich blue hair like the unfathomable heart of the ocean. "You know, you two are going to have to stop pummeling each other and having such loud arguments when the baby is born."

"Why! This is my normal tone of voice!" Wisthera flared. Her blue skin and long emerald hair fit her roguish personality as well. While Wisthera was infamous for her con jobs, Alessandre the assassin was widely known for his lecherous reputation. Well, he was married now.

Opalbane gave Wisthera a threatening look, and the wily rogue quickly apologized for shouting at the shadowpriestess' new husband. Like her brother, Opalbane wore her white hair in a long braid that fell gracefully over her right shoulder. Onyxbane's twin white braids and chopped off ponytail had the opposite effect. He appeared savage, like a barbarian ready for war.

"We're not abusive, really. We just... fight. Normal couples fight, unlike you two newlyweds. Besides, you're going to get into lots of arguments when you get pregnant Opalbane, you'll see."

Alessandre grinned devlishly at his wife and Opalbane flushed. "Wisthera, are you surprised that Willypearl sent your dinner up to your room? I don't believe it's because you're expecting and having trouble with the stairs."

At the mention of her rival the Human mage Willypearl, Wisthera perked up instantly. "Oh that jealous homewrecking... well she _is_ our hostess, and it was nice of her to let us stay at her fiancee's home while we wait for the wedding to start, but I think she doesn't want her family to see me. She only invited me because I am dating Onyxbane... and she only invited Onyxbane because he is your brother. You're Willypearl's best friend."

"Can you blame her?" Alessandre smirked.

Wisthera pouted.

"You only just conned her out of good money and fine tailored goods over the last ten years and then stole her boyfriend... er... I mean... her ex-boyfriend... Me. I meant to say me." Onyxbane started well but, always a bit of a meathead, ended his sly comment badly.

Onyxbane, Wisthera, and Priestess Feathershine had gone to rescue Opalbane from Silithus about nine months ago. The kind Willypearl was an old friend of Onyx's and also felt responsible for Opalbane's disappearance so she offered to come along and help. Inevitably Onxybane had dumped the deceptive Wisthera and was well on his way to settling down with the Human mage when the female Night Elf rogue seized her man back in a daring final stand.

All the Night Elves at the table stared at Onyxbane. "Not that I'm... upset about it or anything. Willypearl's nice and all, but–"

"Little brother, just tell Wisthera that she's pretty and you love her before she smacks you again." Opalbane advised. Onyxbane did this quickly and the tension at the dinner table eased.

"Anyways, I'm glad that you all decided to have dinner with me rather than eat downstairs with Willypearl's family members while I sat up here by myself."

"Anytime." Alessandre patted Wisthera's hand. The handsome rogue then leaned back and put his arm around his wife. "We are all family it seems, though we came into each other's lives nearly by accident. And now," Alessandre chuckled, "You, Wisthera--oh mighty seductress who attempted to unravel my career back in Thelsamar--are having a baby. And you, Onyxbane--a man whom your sister tells me never seemed to fall for the right woman--are going to be a father. How about that?"

"Out of wedlock, no less. Frankly, I can't understand why Feathershine hasn't slapped you silly yet." Opalbane put in, building on her husband's idea. She and her brother rarely called Priestess Feathershine mom. However their parents' lives ended in Felwood, both Opalbane and Onyxbane still loved them as mother and father.

Onyxbane sighed. "Wisthera is already the mother of my child. Isn't motherhood enough? I mean... Willypearl's wedding is going to be this big to-do... I haven't money for that yet, and when we get married, I want it to be right." then he turned to his girlfriend. "You deserve the best, Wisthera."

Wisthera didn't seem too comforted by this excuse. "Yes, thank you Onyx."

"Well, you can't go on referring to Wisthera as your 'baby's mamma' forever, Onyxbane." Alessandre laughed, then got up from the table. Opalbane stood with him.

"Feathershine's wrath and your bastard child aside," Opalbane teased her little brother further, "Al and I are headed over to Stormwind. We still need to get Willypearl a wedding present. You guys want to come?"

Wisthera groaned and patted her very large belly. "I would but... my ankles are swollen. I'd better just stay here and rest."

"Onyx, you coming?" Alessandre prodded, " I think I'm going to get Willypearl's husband a sword or something from the weapon dealer. I bet Woo Ping is over there. We could go get a drink."

"You know _the_ Woo Ping?" Woo Ping was Stormwind's mysterious Weapon Master. Everyone held him in high regard, but few people knew just what great feats he'd done for the Alliance to make him so important. Weapon jocks like Onyxbane lived to learn about these sorts of things.

"Yeah, we go way back." Alessandre shrugged. He was about a thousand years old, but was so handsome with his dark skin and midnight blue hair no one could tell just by looking at him. "Come on, we'll get him some ale at the tavern and he'll open right up about his better days in Outland."

Onyxbane's eyes bulged. "Woo Ping was in Outland? Before the Burning Crusade started? How?"

Alessandre rolled his eyes. "Those Four gigantic statues at the city gates aren't there for nothing, Onyx. They stand in honor of a campaign to defeat the old demonic Horde in Outland before this whole mess started, and Woo Ping was there I think. He mentioned it to me in passing some years ago when I got sword training."

Onyxbane nearly frothed at the mouth on hearing this. He leapt out of his seat at the table. "I could bring the Reaper, and–"

"Bring the Reaper. Woo Ping _loves_ Arcanite Reapers."

Onyxbane was torn between a once in a life time chance to talk weapons with perhaps the coolest Weapon Master in all of the Alliance and his agonizing wife. Wisthera sighed, sensing she knew who was going to win this battle.

Onyxbane sat back down. "No, I should stay. Wisthera shouldn't be alone."

Alessandre started to object, but Opalbane tugged her husband's arm.

"Onyxbane... you live for that axe of yours. I don't want to hold you back." Wisthera frowned.

Onyxbane thought about this for a very long time.

"No. It's not about me anymore is it? I'm a father now. We have a family. We are living in Willypearl's house as wedding guests but she's treating you very badly. And, you aren't feeling so well, Wisthera. I want to be there for you. I love you and you are the mother of my child. The Reaper can wait."

Everyone gasped. All Onyxbane ever talked about was his precious Arcanite Reaper. He made that incredible battle axe by himself years ago. Wisthera had been jealous of it more than once. As his sister, Opalbane knew the feeling too.

"Oh Onyx!" Wisthera embraced her boyfriend.

Opalbane smiled and ushered Alessandre out of the room. "You can play weapons with your brother-in-law later, Al." she smiled. The door closed softly behind them.

When they were alone, Wisthera gasped in pain.

"What's wrong, Sara?"

"Oh, he... or she has been kicking me all night."

Onyxbane smiled. "Really? Our kid is a natural warrior then."

"Or rogue," Wisthera narrowed her eyes. "Ouch!"

Onyxbane held Wisthera through the worst of it, but it didn't seem to help. Finally, he reached around and placed his palm on the spot, to feel for himself. He raised his white eyebrows and smiled. Wisthera smiled too.

"You... do you feel it?" Wisthera asked in a small voice.

"Yes. That's the most amazing thing..." words could not describe how Onyxbane felt so he stopped trying to explain it all. He leaned in and kissed the mother of his child.

"Thank you." he said.

"For what?"

Onyxbane shrugged. "I don't know... it just seemed very important that I say it today, right now to you. Does that make you feel better?"

Wisthera looked like she was about to cry. "I know Feathershine worries about you and your sister but the two of you have changed a lot... I wish she was here to see you like this, with me. She would be very proud of you Onyx."

As they felt the baby stir in her womb, Onyxbane and Wisthera felt closer than they'd been before in life. It seemed to bond them across the tumultuous events in their relationship over the last year. Her motherhood healed many old wounds. The baby itself seemed to understand this, and was eager to live, eager to come into the world and share a new life with its parents.

"Let's name him Reaper." Onyxbane began to tear up too.

"No." Wisthera firmly asserted, and the moment was gone.


	5. Feathershine has a midlife crisis

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Five: Feathershine has a mid life crisis**

"I feel so naked without my novices." Priestess Feathershine worried as she waited for Shadowstep to pack her bag onto her Swift Frostsaber.

The melancholy fishing village of Auberdine groaned like an old man around them. The creaking of ships to Darnassus and Menethil Harbor on the docks ached with their passengers and cargo in the ocean current. Young soldiers of the Alliance shuffled around grumbling about the creepy quests the odd townsfolk gave them. And the townsfolk… they griped loudly about the constant bad weather and how the taint in Darkshore was making their joints ache. Considering that the taint was a physical manifestation of a natural disharmony the creation of Teldrassil effected across the sea and nearly every place around it (except for the Azuremyst Isles for some reason), especially because Cenarion's children and Ysera's green dragons warned Archdruid Fandral Staghelm _not_ to use druidic power for such a selfish purpose… yeah, the land itself probably _was_ hurting people in a kind of passive aggressive way.

"I hardly believe you feel _that_ desolate without all those annoying little girls flitting about you like flies." Shadowstep grumbled as he hefted another weighty package onto the poor beast. It growled its disapproval, but Shadowstep forced it to fit. Priestess Feathershine frowned at him demeaning her novices so.

"Please tell me, love, why you brought so much? We aren't _really _going on a seventy day vacation, you know… It could be as short as, oh well let's say forty days?"

"Now, who's breaking their cover?" Priestess Feathershine came up and slapped Shadowstep hard on the bottom when he bent to pick up another parcel. He nearly dropped it.

"Now that wasn't loving at all was it, dearest?" he growled.

"Oh, I'm sorry that you don't like my brand of love. Don't complain so much dear, half of that is Priestess Windsong's."

"What? It's just supposed to be the two of us!"

"Oh… well, it isn't. I like the way she thinks, and I need another priestess for the kind of work I want to do."

"Let me guess, this involves Mind Controlling people into doing your bidding?" Shadowstep finished with his new girlfriend's frostsaber and brought his own around. It was a beautiful Striped Nightsaber.

"Wait, you aren't saddling the epic mounts?"

"No. That would be too obvious."

"Nonsense, lots of people are doing well enough for war mounts these days. It's more of an accessory than anything else."

Shadowstep ignored Priestess Feathershine's idle henpecking and got back to the matter at hand. "You don't need an extra priestess for mind control. Besides, I am more than capable when it comes to making people talk in my own way."

"Can you read people's minds at whim, without arousing suspicions?"

Shadowstep narrowed his eyes at her, while Priestess Feathershine raised one silken green eyebrow. It caught the moonlight just so.

"I didn't think so." She went on fanning herself with the ornate paper fan she made Shadowstep buy her on their Wreathe Day yesterday in Darnassus. The paper was dyed pink and had gold and green leaves painted on.

"I can't believe I spent so much money on you yesterday." Shadowstep groaned, and helped Priestess Feathershine mount up. She smiled at him sweetly.

"Oh, that's just the beginning."

"You wouldn't dare—"

"If we are going to spend every night together like it was our first—according to you—then I want to enjoy every day as if I was newly wreathed and deserved a barrage of presents."

"I never said that was a requirement."

"I know you too well, Jebidiath. You would become angry with me eventually, when I decided I wasn't in the mood, and then try to add some other kind of stipulation to manipulate me back into your clutches. Finally, I'd be forced to come up with this as a compromise… a 'you do your part, and I'll do mine' sort of thing. It saves time, actually."

Shadowstep mounted up and was ready to make another complaint when he caught a glimpse of his lover straightening in the saddle. Her full green hair was caught up in the wind, and her chest was thrust forward proudly. Then, she relaxed her position and that majestic vision was gone. He decided to be silent and just enjoy that moment instead.

They did not wait for Priestess Windsong in Ashenvale, but trotted down the road a few miles instead. She was waiting for them in the Grove of the Ancients.

Priestess Feathershine flashed a kindly smile to Onu, a large Ancient of War that looked like a tree, and then waved Windsong over.

"Priestess," Shadowstep greeted Windsong politely enough, but it was obvious he was disappointed. For many years, Windsong had been to Feathershine what Myrielle had been to him: an indispensable and illogically loyal right hand woman. One was foolish to run an organization of spies or, he supposed, a small army of novice priestesses without someone to watch your back. Recently, however, Feathershine rewarded Windsong for her good work by calling in some favors to get the young woman's priestly career on the fast track. Shadowstep had never been so kind to Myrielle. Soon after Windsong finished helping Feathershine in Silithus almost nine months ago, she was made a full Priestess of Elune. The one thing Shadowstep couldn't understand though, is why Windsong still insisted on spending so much time with her mentor. There was nothing more she could gain from buttering up Feathershine these days, and full Priestesses of Elune were free to pursue their own missions of mercy.

"Thank you for meeting me out here. I told Tyrande that I had to visit my sick aunt in Feralas." Windsong said to them.

"Dearest, that is a likely excuse, but not too many of us live in Feralas anymore. You might be forced to make up something else before our journey is out."

"I agree. A good rogue also never selects an alibi that involves officers of the law. The one populated settlement out there is Feathermoon Stronghold, and the main thrust of Sentinels is camped there, outside of Darnassus."

The little Priestess Windsong sighed and whistled for her spotted saber mount. Obediently, it crept out of the bushes into the road. "I _do_ have an aunt in Feralas, though she's not that sick."

Priestess Feathershine raised a curious eyebrow.

"What I mean is," Windsong said and urged her mount forward, "She's always sick with hayfever. I'll bring her some Darnassian treats, but that's all I can do about it. She'll be happy to see me, but she's likely to be incurable indefinitely so I can stay out as long as you all need me. Now, what was that you were saying about good rogues?"

Then, Windsong turned a fairly good imitation of Feathershine's raised eyebrow on Shadowstep and he balked.

"How tragic, a Kaldorei with hayfever." Feathershine frowned. "What _is_ she allergic to, dear?"

"Trees."

"Oh my." Feathershine frowned even more, and Shadowstep groaned and kicked his mount into a gallop.

They didn't get very far that day, and had to camp at a post a few miles inland from the Zoram Strand.

Though Feathershine made every excuse she could think of to keep Priestess Windsong up with her as long as possible, Shadowstep finally caught onto what his girlfriend was doing.

"No, I don't think you need to go over the old maps of Felwood again." He said simply, and hoisted Priestess Feathershine over his shoulder.

"Excuse me Priestess, but your friend and I have a kind of arrangement," Shadowstep managed a bow at Windsong, even with the offended Feathershine's rump facing her.

Windsong couldn't help but laugh.

Alone in their tent, Shadowstep endured all of Priestess Feathershine's complaining until she seemed fairly out of breath.

"You know, after all these years, without any semblance of a relationship, we manage to argue like an old married couple."

Priestess Feathershine perked up at that. "We do, don't we? I'll have to be less obstinate then."

"No, don't change at all." He said and began to kiss her.

"Oh, yes, before I forget." Priestess Feathershine pulled back mid-kiss and lingered while Shadowstep tossed his head back annoyed.

"What excuse can you possibly have now? I agreed to spend five epic mounts' worth of gold on you during this journey, I'm going to put up with the lady friend you want to have along, for what actual reason, Elune knows why, _and_ I've put the biggest discovery of my career on hold just for you, because I love you and I swear I'm going to go crazy unless you return some kind of emotion tonight!"

Priestess Feathershine gasped at him. "Jebidiath, really! That's no way to talk to a lady."

"Gaaah!" Shadowstep cried, and buried his face in his hands.

"Anyway, I was going to inform you that the old god Zar'teaus may be following me."

Shadowstep stared at her for a long time before he realized she wasn't joking. This worried him because he hadn't placed evidence to suggest it… but again, he knew he couldn't push the issue if he wanted to keep up this farce.

"Why are you telling me this now?" he asked, truly annoyed.

"Because, I didn't want you to get upset and overreact in front of everyone, including people who might tell Tyrande what I've done."

Shadowstep rolled his eyes. It could not possibly be as bad as Feathershine imagined. "Alright. It was reckless of you to keep yet another secret from me, but let's forget about that for now. _How_ do you know Zar'teaus himself is really after you?"

"I… it was an accident. I snuck off to Silithus a few weeks ago… I used up my last good excuse on Tyrande and took a fast Hippogryph down to Cenarion Hold. Then, I approached a Twilight Cultist's camp. I know a hunter down there, and he kept me safe while I did it."

"What did you do?" Shadowstep got serious. He had agents watching Feathershine so carefully… why was it that no one informed him she left Darnassus? It could change everything…

"Well, I mind controlled someone nearby the orange windstone I thought was his, and saw something horrible."

Shadowstep urged her to get on with it.

"Zar'teaus is aging… he's disgusting really. His body is failing him and he's looking for another one. The cultist I communed with was trying to commune with him while I did it, and well… I think we had a little connection going back then."

Shadowstep's eyes went wide.

"I know for a fact that Zar'teaus is looking for Onyxbane and Opalbane. I don't understand why he wants those two, but Zar'teaus is now aware that I am in contact with them. He's hoping I will lead him to my babies."

Shadowstep gave up being angry and just wrapped his arms around his girlfriend.

"That's why Windsong needs to come with us too. She's looked into my mind and fully understands what's going on, in a way I can't describe to you with words. If she uses her Mind Vision spell to constantly scan the area, and commune with my mind at the same time… we'll know absolutely whether or not we're being followed."

"Deliah?"

"Yes, Jebidiath."

"I love you. You can be very silly sometimes, but I still love you. I promise that no harm will come to you. I'll make sure of it." He tried not to sound worried.

"What of Opalbane, and Onyx? I might have singlehandedly helped along their deaths!"

"You did what you thought was right. And we aren't anywhere near them now, are we? Zar'teaus can't find them if we don't get close to them. However, may I ask that, we do things my way from now on?"

"Your way is going to involve lying to people and using them."

"Maybe, but it also involves another pair of capable eyes and daggers. Though, to be honest, I don't think it's as bad as you believe. If Zar'teaus is that disempowered, he could never just leave Silithus on his own. It's more than likely some annoyed Twilight Cultist who wants to make sure you didn't see or hear anything you weren't supposed to, or… or else you would have been attacked by now." Shadowstep hated to tell her that part, but it was true. "We're just going to have to be more careful. Can you handle that, love?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, where were we—" Shadowstep snuggled up to her again

"Oh, dearest? Doesn't that mean you should take first watch as well?"

Shadowstep threw his hands up in the air. "Unbelievable! I'm almost beginning to think you found some way to travel back in time after yesterday and talk to that monster just so that I'd be cheated out of a good time tonight."

Priestess Feathershine began to giggle at that. "You _are_ cute when you get angry, aren't you?"

Shadowstep only grumbled in response as he got dressed again. Then, at the opening of the tent, and lifted the flap and said,

"One day, you are going to want me, and I will simply refuse to bed you. And you will be furious. On that day, I want you to remember how poorly you are treating me. I am really starting to feel like a fool for caring so much about you, and being the butt of all Azeroth's jokes."

Priestess Feathershine watched him go, smiling at how Elune always seemed to provide for her own. Perhaps her little mishap in Silithus had been troubling, but Feathershine stayed calm and kept her faith in the goddess afterward. The silver lining in that situation turned out to be that a certain clingy ex-boyfriend would not manipulate her during their journey. Then, she began to think about what Shadowstep really was enduring for her, and had been putting up with over the years. In that instant, Feathershine became aware of the fact that she was aging, her career drawing to an end, her own children grown into adults. And in addition to her constantly rejecting him…with a shock, she wondered why Jebidiath Shadowstep was truly still interested in her at all.


	6. Dirty minds can't scout for danger

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Six: A dirty mind can't scout for danger  
**

_The next day at the inn in Astranaar…_

"I'm going to be completely honest with you. Are you ready for it?" Shadowstep asked Vermilion, a young rogue with a chopped off puff of lime-colored hair. Despite his appearance, he was actually very good at his job and took his superiors very seriously. He just had a bad habit of keeping his silly hairstyle for years and years.

"Yessir." He saluted.

"You've heard the rumors, I'm sure. Well, they're all true. Priestess Feathershine is the only woman I ever wanted. When I told her this seventy years ago, she broke my heart. Now, I actually have a chance to have a normal relationship with her again. I don't care how crazy it sounds. This is the situation you are going to deal with. Are you following me?"

The young man nodded.

"Good. Your job is to give me any kind of back up I need if things get rough. Keep an eye out for danger. This is in no way an equal partnership. We are _not_ going to take turns on watch, we are _not _going to share responsibility for anything. I am going to lead you, and you are going to follow."

"Like some sort of… minion, sir?"

"Exactly."

"I'm fine with that."

"Good, you're a pushover. I like that. Now, Priestess Feathershine and I have an arrangement, and she's trying to skirt it every chance she gets. You need to keep it so that, every night, when its time to turn in she hasn't a care in the world and can come to my bed. Do you understand?"

"Yessir."

"Don't be an idiot and use force. Just keep trouble off her back and mine so that I don't have to hear about it. I'm thinking with my loins here, and I won't listen to reason. Are you willing to take orders from a mad man like me?"

"Yessir." Vermilion saluted again. Shadowstep caught the young man's fist before he could pound it against his chest.

"Don't salute, Vermilion. Rogues don't salute. It makes it obvious that we're talking business."

"Yessir, Shadowstep. I brought provisions with me to Astranaar, like you asked. When will I start?"

"Right now. We are going to be with the druids in Felwood tomorrow. The nature of this mission does not concern you. Keeping Feathershine available to me is. Just come along and don't be in the way."

"Yes—"

"And don't dare say 'yessir' again. Just nod or do something nonchalant."

Slowly, carefully, Vermilion nodded his head.

"Good boy. Now, I'll introduce you to the ladies."

Priestess Feathershine was very unhappy to have another person along, especially a male person who appealed to Priestess Windsong so much. She had even started to count the rate of batted eyelashes per hour, and she did not like all the flirting between Windsong and Vermilion one bit. She walked down to the lake to get away from the annoying flirting and clear her head, but just as she rounded the corner of one of the massive tree buildings in Astranaar, she was yanked off her feet.

Instantly, her holy shield went up, and she began to call down a holy fire spell.

Shadowstep let go of her then.

"You still don't recognize me stealthed? I guess I have got better over the years."

Priestess Feathershine sighed. "I don't like the boy. Get rid of him."

"I don't like that Priestess Windsong is in my way. Get rid of her." He challenged, and walked past Feathershine to the lake.

Priestess Feathershine wanted to leave him there by himself, but she did really like Shadowstep deep down, and hated to hurt his feelings. Also, yesterday evening's sober realization that her clock was ticking still haunted the mature priestess.

"I do want to make love to you, Jebidiath." She wrapped her arms around Shadowstep from behind. His hunched shoulders visibly relaxed at hearing her say it.

"Then why are we going on like this? We finally have permission to be open about our feelings and we act like enemies."

"Let's not." Priestess Feathershine said, and took Shadowstep's hand.

"Wait, where are we going?"

"Into the woods." She said, and began to lead him away.

"Why?"

But the answer was obvious soon enough. High up in a tree, Feathershine leaned over her lover, and covered his face with breathy kisses.

Shadowstep sat on the wide tree branch, his back to the enormous trunk. The beautiful priestess knelt before him. Both Night Elves were naturally very comfortable in a tree.

"I remember the last time we did this." Shadowstep chuckled. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of his fingers roving up and down Priestess Feathershine's silken blue mooncloth robe. He began to remove it.

"No," Feathershine asked him to wait. "First, before we do this, I want you to know something Jebidiath."

Shadowstep was a patient man, especially when he knew he was going to get what he wanted anyway. The Mission Implausible was going well so far, everything was falling into place. He eased back and stroked Feathershine's long aqua hair. It cooled off her rose skin, but when Feathershine blushed the two intense colors competed and it was like Feathershine really became a springtime rose bloom. In those moments, Shadowstep found it hard to resist the urge to kiss her and possess her, the way one could barely refrain from picking a beautiful flower that grew someone else's garden.

"I… I wish we did not have to break up back then. I walk around Darnassus, pretending like those rumors about us don't affect me, but they do. I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted us to stay together, to get married for always, like you asked me."

"Then why not just end the wait!" Shadowstep begged her. "We could get married right now. Windsong could do it, she's a full priestess right?"

"Calm down, Jebidiath." She said. Shadowstep hated when she treated him like one of her young novices. He knew it was mostly out of habit though, since she worked with children all day long. "What I'm saying is, I think I would be willing to give us another chance… one last chance."

Shadowstep hugged her tight, and Feathershine whimpered that she couldn't breathe.

"Sorry," he kissed her cheek.

"No apologies…" Feathershine took a moment to recover and then clarified her statement. "There won't be any apologies this time because there won't be any more betrayals. No playing games with my head, no lying to me, no lying to others about me."

Shadowstep got very quiet.

"Do you understand? I am not interested in dating the Master Rogue. I am interested in dating Jebidiath Shadowstep. That is the man I fell in love with a whole lifetime ago, even though our first Springtime didn't go so well…" she stifled a laugh, and Shadowstep squinted a critical eye at her. "I adored you then because you begged me to keep seeing you, even if the time for making love had passed. And after a few wonderful dates—"

"One night, high up in a tree like this one, we stole away from our parents' homes and really did make love." Shadowstep kissed Feathershine tenderly, and she returned the kiss.

"It was exquisite." She kissed him a second time. "That is the man I want to be with: my persistent and sweet first love. I think that intensely affectionate young gentleman is still inside you somewhere."

Their tender words faded as Shadowstep began to undress her. "I promise," Shadowstep barely uttered between passionate kisses, "I won't disappoint you. I swear to the goddess."

"Don't swear to her," Feathershine admonished him with sound priestess instinct. Shadowstep laughed and drew her closer.

But a low, gurgling sound drowned out Feathershine's words. Terrified of looking up, but knowing they had to, both she and Shadowstep turned to the sound above their heads. In the massive branch above them was a horrid creature, with twisted horns and peeling flesh that looked melted.

"That's Zar'teaus!" Feathershine shrieked, and called a holy shield up for Shadowstep and herself.

"Well, he's got great timing, hasn't he?" Shadowstep griped. He looked down from the dizzying height of the tree. His gleaming swords lay useless at the base where he couldn't climb with their cumbersome weight.

Feathershine's eyes were fixed on the disgusting creature, but her voice spoke in Shadowstep's mind. _I just alerted Windsong and Vermilion. _

"They aren't too far away, are they?" Shadowstep asked quickly and crouched low. Being unarmed was about the worst thing for a rogue. He hadn't undressed yet, but he felt naked.

Priestess Feathershine frowned. _They were doing the same as we. I TOLD you to get rid of that boy! _

Shadowstep was ready to gripe back at his old girlfriend when a large dark claw slashed downward and separated him from the woman he loved. Shadowstep called out as he fell from the branch, to his precious Feathershine who writhed helpless in the talons of the old god.

Priestess Feathershine screamed.


	7. As they say, once a master rogue

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Seven: As they say, once a Master Rogue, always the Master Rogue**

With good rogue instinct, Shadowstep stealthed midair, hoping that would make the terrible fall less painful. He was not disappointed. As soon as he hit the dirt he ran for his two golden Grand Marshall swords. A dazzling blue sapphire blazed on the hilt of each.

Shadowstep let forth a sharp whistle. "Hey, put her down!" he called up to the smokey gray monster. The Master Rogue expertly brandished his swords to get its attention. With an easy flick of his wrists the enormous blades whipped around gracefully. The way he wielded his swords, it was easy for one to be mesmerized by the neat trick until recalling that just such a gesture could take off the head of an enemy, lightning fast.

It was working on the monster. Its beady black eyes glistened as it watched Shadowstep whirl his twin swords about. Shadowstep stalked closer to the tree, and began to swing his arms in wider arcs, then with a deft motion he whipped one heavy blade up over his head, tossed it up, then caught it behind his back.

A delighted grunt escaped from the smoking, lifeless jowls.

"Alright you big stupid old god," Shadowstep said under his breath.  
Then he shouted, "You like shiny swords don't you?"

The creature nodded eagerly and cheered. Priestess Feathershine held onto its clutches for dear life. She looked at Shadowstep, frantic. _Hard to breathe… can't cast my spells…_she told him mentally. Shadowstep swore.

"Want to see more tricks?" Shadowstep asked. The creature squealed with delight and leaned forward on its tree branch. Feathershine covered her eyes at seeing the ground move so close to her and whimpered.

Vermillion and Windsong came up then.

"Good, you're here. Vermillion, stealth up there and sap that thing…"

Vermillion cleared his throat and scratched his scalp through the audacious puff of bright green hair. "I kind of… left my dagger behind."

Shadowstep's eyes went wide. It took him an effort to control his voice but then he wordlessly tossed the novice rogue one of his gigantic swords. Then he pointed angrily at the tree. The phrase _Now get your ass up there before I smack you silly_ comes to mind, though Shadowstep was too furious to say it.

Windsong took a tentative step between Shadowstep and the tree, and put on a holy shield.

Shadowstep forced a smile at the monster and began to spin his lone sword in the palm of his hand. "Windsong, get a new holy shield on Priestess Feathershine, when I give you the signal."

The young priestess nodded. She looked terrified but bravely stood her ground.

"Oooh! Look at the shiny sword." Shadowstep whipped it up over his head again, then pretended to lunge with it and stabbed an imaginary enemy. The monster gurgled and bounced with glee. Priestess Feathershine squirmed, but could not get free. Shadowstep kept up his little performance a few moments longer, then he saw through Vermilion's stealth; his other gleaming sword raised up behind the creature's head. In that precious instant, he whistled at Windsong and she thrust her hands up, calling a golden holy shield around her mentor. The flat side of Vermillion's blade bashed the back of the monster's head and it sagged over in an incapacitated stupor. Once sapped, the creature lost control of himself and Feathershine slipped free from its hand. Shadowstep sprinted to catch her. She fell neatly into his waiting arms.

"Oh Jebbidiath—"

"No time for that now," he told her gently then set the priestess on her feet. He stealthed again.

The two priestesses of Elune watched as the rogues closed in on the smoking gray monster. Windsong readied a holy fire spell, but Feathershine stayed her friend's hand. "Whenever you fight with a rogue… always wait for them to make the first move."

High up in the tree, Vermillion raised Shadowstep's sword overhead, ready to strike. Shadowstep retrieved a throwing knife from his boot, hoping it would serve well as a dagger. He held it in his teeth as he climbed the tree. The huge golden Grand Marshall's sword was slung across his back.

A horrid netherwordly scream of pain ripped through the peace of Ashenvale when Vermillion and Shadowstep attacked at once. Feathershine and Windsong called down their most powerful holy spells immediately after. The eruption of power caused the creature lash out and snap the thick tree branch underneath it. Both rogues jumped back, and disappeared into stealth mid-air. The fall would not kill them, but combined with the slashing of swords and searing priest magic it would kill Zar'teaus.

The crash moved the earth and the people in the town of Astranaar ran to see what the matter was. Sentinels raced ahead of everyone and held back the crowd.

Purple leaves and dust settled while Shadowstep examined the carcass.

"This is not Zar'teaus." He announced. Vermillion came up behind the Master Rogue to have a look for himself.

"Oh no?" Priestess Feathershine worried. "Then what was that horrible monster? It looked just like him, Jebidiath!" she challenged.

"There's nothing to see here folks, just KRN business." Vermillion strutted over to the people and announced. Shadowstep went pale. "Oh, and here is your sword back, Master Rogue." Before the Sentinels and the crowd Shadowstep gave the young man a look so sinister everyone felt it. The excited people hushed while Shadowstep's sword suspended in dead air between the two men.

Shadowstep took his sword back, and slid it into its scabbard at his hip. The other sword he'd slung over his back. But, as soon as the weapon was secured, Shadowstep had the young man by his shirt collar and off his feet. He took three large angry strides to the tree and slammed Vermillion against the bark.

"Don't you ever, ever come into a fight without even a damn weapon!" Shadowstep growled at the novice rogue.

"But I—"

"Furthermore, what part of 'under cover' don't you understand? The KRN is _not_ involved in this. I am on my _Wreathe Day_, got it?"

Priestess Feathershine came and stood behind Shadowstep. "Shadowstep, let the boy go."

"NO!" he shouted at her over his shoulder. Then he slammed Vermillion into the tree trunk again. "This is _my_ show, do you hear me?" he told the boy, then snarled, "I make the calls, I make the decisions. I don't want one of Tyrande's lackeys to surprise me while on this assignment and then demand that I explain my whereabouts. Do you hear me?"

Vermillion squirmed and managed a weak 'Yessir' once he got a ragged breath. Then, Shadowstep let the young man go.

"Jebidiath! I'm surprised at you. That is no way to treat someone who looks up to you." Then she told him in a harsh whisper, "You promised me that you would change your ways!"

"Back off, Deliah!" He spat back at her rudely. "I'm working right now, and don't have time for your self-righteous preaching! Don't you get enough of that in the temple? Tyrande can't see you right now, you know."

"How dare you talk to me like that!" she fumed. "You need to keep your temper in check."

Shadowstep said nothing. He stalked away from Feathershine and into the forest, livid.

Eventually, the Sentinels ushered the people back to the town. Feathershine, Windsong, and the mortified Vermillion followed.

"What's got into Shadowstep? Will he be alright?" Windsong asked.

Priestess Feathershine sighed, and forced herself to calm down. "Vermillion, under no circumstances are you to gloat about this in any measure… I am only telling you this little secret about your guild master to bring you comfort after how he threatened you."

Vermillion looked away, embarrassed.

"He was not yelling at you back there. He was angry with himself. The monster caught Shadowstep off guard, without his swords. He emasculated you in front of the crowd to save face."

"You read this from his mind?" Vermillion hoped.

"No. However, I know Shadowstep very well. I don't need to read his mind very much anymore."

"He _is_ angry with you though, Vermillion. It was a poor time to leave your dagger in my room—" Windsong's hands flew up over her mouth.

Priestess Feathershine gave a motherly smile. "Oh there's nothing wrong with that, young people. It's natural, isn't it? However, if you are going to have an adult relationship, I suggest that you also recover from it like adults."

"With clear heads, do you mean?" Vermillion asked curiously.

Feathershine shook her head. "No, but with the understanding that real life always gets in the way of love. It's not worth putting so much stock in petty feelings when work is far more important."

Beside her, Priestesss Windsong frowned.

_You're bitter too, like the Master Rogue._ Windsong told Feathershine mentally with her Mind Vision spell. The young woman was worried.

_Jebidiath is not bitter, he's just frustrated. He's a good person deep down._ Feathershine defended her boyfriend. However, she wasn't very sure of that now. Where was the loving, gentle person Feathershine had wanted to make love to only moments ago? How could Shadowstep banish that kindness so heartlessly fast? Of course, when someone read your mind they could hear everything you felt as well as what you hoped they would see.

Painfully aware of that connection to Windsong, Priestess Feathershine ignored her young friend's concerned prodding and walked briskly to the inn ahead of them in Astranaar.

_At that same moment in Ashenvale..._

Zar'teaus had but one hair left on his withering skull with hardly anyone left to worship him. Adeiline did her best, however. She sat behind him and took out her old silver comb from her 'un-undead days', as she liked to call them, and began to literally comb Zar'teaus' hair. It was not evident whether or not Zar'teaus appreciated this kind of attention. His empty jar lay open at Adeiline's side where let him out for a breather.

"Master, did you all hear that screaming and tree-breaking up ahead?"

Zar'teaus had fallen asleep. He woke up and scowled at the blanket his kindly High Priestess wrapped around his frail shoulders. "I didn't hear any insidious... _tree_-breaking." he scowled at the way Adeiline put it. Her Common was heavily accented by Gutterspeak, the language of the Undead. She also used their kind of phrasing from time to time. Tree-breaking sounded very close to bone-breaking, and oath-breaking, and skull-breaking for example. The Forsaken Undead were known to break all kinds of things with glee.

"Well, there was a terrible howling noise, and then I heard people shouting and rushing from Astranaar."

Zar'teaus thought about this. "A howling? What kind of howling?"

"Like... the sound of a thousand tortured souls writhing in the hungry clutches of the Burning Legion. It was a lot like that." Well, that was one thing an Undead was good for, knowing the difference between normal suffering and netherworldly suffering.

Zar'teaus rotting yellow eyes went wide. It was hard to tell just what kind of old god he'd been thousands of years ago, he was so dilapidated. "A Legion Ranger! It can't be!" Zar'teaus fretted. "There's no way... how could they even know I'm--"

"What's a Legion Ranger, Master? And, is it really a problem for us? Whatever it is, they certainly killed it. There was a great deal of noise." Adeiline asked as she carefully weaved Zar'teaus lone hair imbetween two teeth of her elegant silver comb.

"You dolt! The Burning Legion's rangers don't travel alone! They have lots of demon pets, that's probably what that cursed howling was. It's a miracle we weren't discovered by it first. We need to get out of here now, Adeiline. Perhaps to the other continent!"

"But what about Opalbane and Onyxbane? Don't we need to find them first?"

Zar'teaus' smoking yellow eyes whorled in their sockets. "Oh, yes that's very useful, especially now." he focused on something else beyond his own mind.

"What is?"

"Quiet. I'm trying to concentrate." Zar'teaus paused momentarily, then withdrew from Feathershine's mind. "That priestess is so obsessed with those two orphan whelps she can't stop thinking about her children, even if she hopes to thwart me after sneaking up on my windstone in Silithus." Then, he extended his one melting hand to Adeiline. It was an effort to point and he almost lost one of his bony fingers in the process. "Take me to the Human Lands! I see... a wedding, and two Night Elves with white braided hair and... a baby." Zar'teaus nearly wafted out of his rotting ribcage when he saw it with his strange powers. "Oh, Adeiline, this is going to be much easier than we first thought, indeed."

"Oh! I love babies! Are we going to have one?" Adeiline squealed and knocked Zar'teaus over. He swore loudly at her, and she apologized profusely before stuffing him back into the dirty glass jar.


	8. The Burning Legion can be sexy too

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Eight: The Burning Legion can be sexy too  
**

Svetlana rocked back and forth on her cleft hooves as she watched Priestess Feathershine work. The other woman was also beautiful, but in a springtime sort of way. Svetlana smirked and rested a hand on her hip. She tapped her claws impatiently on the gold runed belt around her waist. It didn't really hold up the black leather thong she wore or serve to tuck in the matching runed chestpiece. Demon armor wasn't meant to be functional, just terrifying, disarming. The stealthed succubus walked a full circle around the Priestess of Elune. She dragged her leather whip behind her. It made a mark in the dry Felwood soil. Then, Svetlana came to a stop directly in front of the Night Elf. She waited. She grimaced.

"I dare you…see me. Attack me, _please_." Svetlana mouthed, sounding a little needy. Her palms itched with the desire to use her dark powers.

Priestess Feathershine looked up from where she had been turning over pieces of a ruined stone house. The gray rock seemed to have a name or number on it, an address she recognized.

"Shadowstep?" Feathershine looked through the invisible succubus and waved her boyfriend over. "This is the very site where Opalbane and Onyxbane lived as children. We found their house!" she smiled. The demoness glanced over her shoulder and scowled when she saw the Master Rogue coming.

Svetlana flapped her dark blue scaly wings and pranced away on pointed toes. A slender tail whipped about behind her, then she departed into the sickly green foliage of Felwood.

Svetlana reappeared about a mile away. A coven of twisted trees had knotholes rotted into snarling faces. Glowing fetid liquid dripped out of the jagged open jowls. Even at midday, there was enough shade in that dark spot to hide the most nefarious doings.

Svetlana dropped her stealth. "There are only four of them, my Master." She announced.

The crouching dark figure looked up.

"The rogue, the priestess and two others?" the Master's voice was rich and silken. It did not sound, but _felt_ evil. It got under your skin, was so charming that it made you feel dirty for enjoying it so much.

Svetlana sighed and checked her long red claw-like nails. She was blue all over, her fetlocks and wings were so dark they nearly looked black. Blazing purple markings that looked like flame erupted where the dark blue petered out, then edged against sultry pale sky blue skin in a pink flare. The same markings repeated at Svetlana's elbows and made it look like she wore dark gloves.

"Yes, but they are just minions… weaker versions of the priestess of the Light and the Master Rogue."

Silence. The Master sat down and folded his legs underneath him while he brooded.

"What are they doing?" The Legion Ranger and Svetlana's master asked next.

"Turning _rocks_ of all things, Master. I think they are trying to find some kind of clue in the wreckage of our attack on Felwood."

"Is there anything Kil'Jaeden will want to know?"

"No, my Master. I believe they are only trying to learn what Zar'teaus has to do with the orphans."

Another pause. "Good. This is information I need as well."

Svetlana's glowing blue eyes intensified in the shadow.

"Would you like to watch them again tomorrow, Svetlana?"

"Master, I'm flattered. You are actually asking me? I thought you'd be more forceful with us after they killed Zyrcuno."

"That dumb demon half-breed mutt!" the Legion Ranger cursed. "He got what he deserved. I told him to just watch and report back, the way you're doing now… I suppose he got frisky at the end."

Svetlana pouted and made a whimpering noise. "Oh Master, you _are_ wise, as well as handsome. I would like to continue doing your bidding."

"Why do you sound so sad then?"

Svetlana walked from one end of the dark enclosure to the other, but came up short when her tiny hooves almost stepped in the demonic rune drawn in gray dirt between them.

"Oh my Master…" she pleaded. "It's been so long since I've fought, or whipped or seduced _anyone_! I don't know if I can stand to simply watch anymore. I wasn't really made for reconnaissance."

A low roiling chuckle rose up from the Legion Ranger's throat. He gestured for her to walk around his rune drawing, to his side.

"Oh, you lovely creature." You could not see the smile on his face but hear it in his voice. "You can always seduce me if you like." Svetlana did not move away when her Master rested his head on her thigh and then reached a gentle hand around to caress her backside with his fingers. A succubus is the last person in the world who would reject a man.

Svetlana returned the smile. "Oh, I do enjoy that." She leaned into his touch. "I enjoy it more if you make me do it, my Master."

The Legion Ranger laughed with his powerful voice. It was truly villainous laughter, the kind you hear in nightmares. The Legion Ranger Svetlana called Master stood then. He dragged his fingers up the length of her then grabbed her fiercely by the scruff of the neck, under her long brunette hair.

"I adore you. When this is all done, and I have Zar'teaus back in custody, I'll be so sad to return you to Outland."

Svetlana did not even flinch. Demons welcomed this kind of touch. She reached up and caressed her Master's perfect face with the back of her clawed fingers. He enjoyed this immensely, and opened eyes that flared a dazzling fel green in the darkness. "Before then… will you let me kill them, please?" she pressed up against him.

"Maybe," the Legion Ranger said, breathy, then covered the demon's mouth with his own. A bonechilling purr escaped from the succubus' throat, as she enjoyed how her master used her.

_Back at the ruins, in Felwood…_

"I hope you aren't afraid of snakes, Windsong."

Windsong stopped what she was doing and laughed at Vermillion. The young man smiled at her then tried another pick up line.

"You're an Emerald Dream come true."

Windsong couldn't stop giggling after that. "Oh, those are so tired, Vermillion. Why don't you try something else?" she teased him.

Vermillion leaned on an old gray stone column while Windsong knelt reading thick marble tablets on the ground. Priestess Feathershine was a good distance away, talking with Shadowstep. The two young people were quick to use the brief reprieve as an opportunity to flirt.

"Umm…" Vermillion clearly didn't take himself very seriously, which went well with his wild hair. That he looked and sounded foolish didn't matter, if he could make Windsong laugh. "Rogues do it from behind, baby." He flashed a smile.

Windsong stopped laughing. "What does that even _mean_—"

Vermillion became serious in an instant. "Do you mean you never… "

"No… I've always been too busy studying under Feathershine to meet anyone. Kissing you like that was really nice yesterday," she swooned, "But to be honest, I'm brand new at this. I've never even had a boyfriend." Windsong shrugged.

Vermillion really started to grin then. "Really? Do you want to be my girlfriend then—"

The young rogue was abruptly cut off when Shadowstep yanked him around by the shirt collar.

"Uh, boss… I was just—"

"Come with me." Shadowstep's long green eyebrows narrowed. He turned abruptly, and his high ponytail lashed out behind him.

Vermillion did a hasty bow to Windsong, which she adored, and then caught up to his guild leader.

"I will address your wasting my time and money later, young man." Shadowstep said brusquely as he walked Vermillion to the far end of the ruins. A few miles North of them, a Cenarion Circle outpost, deranged Furblogs and who knows what else went about daily business in Felwood. The four of them milled about the ruins of a small town at just the spot where the dying forest met the sacred pristine wilds of Ashenvale.

"For now, though I want you to follow my lead. I've got no intention of explaining anything to you. Just know that we're at the very place that Opalbane and Onyxbane lived as children about twenty years ago."

"Who are they—"

"Shut up!" Shadowstep flared at the other rogue. "I have a plan, and I think Feathershine and Windsong have been searching this rubble for long enough. It's time I showed them my discovery."

Vermillion eyed Shadowstep curiously. He didn't recall seeing the Master Rogue do any work while the ladies toiled away.

"Here it is." Shadowstep took something sinister looking out of his pocket. A small disk made of impossibly black metal with strange etchings on it lay in the palm of Shadowstep's hand. It gave off a disturbing aura. "I found this a while back and kept it to myself, but she doesn't need to know that. Now, I want you to go over there and make a big fuss about how I made this amazing discovery. Go."

Vermillion went off immediately. He turned back to salute, but saw the scowl on Shadowstep's face and resisted the urge at the last moment.

Shadowstep watched as the young man did a somersault in the air and then shouted for Feathershine to come see the 'amazing discovery.' He grinned. Feathershine flushed and raced over.

"Oh! It's a badge of some sort. I wish I knew what it said." Feathershine frowned.

"We can't know for sure," Shadowstep began in a lofty tone, "But we can make a very educated guess. If it is some kind of military badge, there is only one army that could have left it behind."

Feathershine gasped. "The Burning Legion, of course! And you said you saw it right in front of Opal and Onyx's house?"

Shadowstep nodded.

"In that case, we can only assume that whomever attacked their parents was a high-ranking official in that army." Priestess Feathershine frowned then. "I hoped we would find something about their past, a way to explain all the bad things that have been happening to my babies. I am almost certain that the Twilight's Hammer targeted Opalbane and set out to ruin her life from the beginning."

"But all that is left of their home and village is rock overgrown with trees and moss."

"All except this badge." Shadowstep reminded the ladies. "I think I know someone who can help us make sense of it though. We might just be able to reveal the identity of the person who murdered their parents. First though, we need to go to Azshara."

"Why in Elune's name would we go there?" Feathershine wondered.

Shadowstep smiled at her. "Dearest, weren't you the one who wanted to find out about Zar'teaus' past? Isn't he also an old god? And weren't old gods worshipped by Trolls at the beginning of time?"

Feathershine crooked a finger over her rose lips as she thought about this. "I see… and our ancestors fought many wars with the Trolls all those thousands of years ago. But, are you even sure there are Troll ruins out in Azshara? I've never heard of any."

Shadowstep tucked the strange demonic badge away in a fresh handkerchief, as if he'd just found it, then put it back in his pocket. He loved how Feathershine wouldn't take her eyes off the coveted object, and now he possessed it. "I've read a few things over the years…let's just say I have an inkling."

Feathershine sighed. "Would this be one of the many top secret Darnassian tidbits that only someone like the Master Rogue would know anything about?"

Shadowstep grinned. "Exactly. However, I warn all of you not to share what you see in Azshara to another living soul." He raised a green eyebrow. "It would do Darnassus a great disservice if word got out that Night Elves _are_ in fact related to Trolls."

Hushed silence swelled in the ruined village. It felt like a ghost town again.

"Jebidiath, that is despicable—"

"And true, I'm afraid. But, since you wanted to know every little thing about the Old God threatening your children, we _are_ going to Azshara to face the truth. You can't back out of it now."

Feathershine felt the familiar pressure Shadowstep was putting on her, was wary of it, but finally relented.

They made camp far to the south in Ashenvale, near Silvermoon Stronghold that night. Shadowstep had no difficulty encouraging Feathershine to come to him. Vermillion even offered to cook, and then clean up after dinner. When she went to stay up gossiping with Windsong, Feathershine found her young friend delightfully occupied with the person she now called her 'boyfriend.'

"They move so fast," Feathershine grumbled. Shadowstep welcomed her into his tent with open arms.

She let him hug her but wouldn't do or say much else.

"Deliah, what's wrong?" Shadowstep asked her. He gently kissed the back of her neck.

Feathershine folded her hands underneath her head, her back to him. "You said some very mean things to me, and you never apologized."

"I am truly sorry." The rogue was sincere.

The priestess could not hold out being angry after such a sweet penitence. She turned to Shadowstep and kissed him. "I don't understand you though, Jebidiath. When we're alone like this, we're just fine. It feels like old times… but outside with the others, you become the Master Rogue again."

Shadowstep's kisses moved down her shoulders and still further into her lush bosom. He began to undo the gorgeous woman's shirt. "I love you," he breathed over her.

Feathershine could not say anything in return. "I can't lie to you about the way I feel, Jebidiath. But you must stop being two people at once. If you do, I might be able to come around… We can't live our whole lives isolated in a tent or up in a tree, and even there we found danger. You _have_ to change your ways."

Shadowstep wasn't exactly listening. He got his girlfriend's shirt off and tossed it aside. Feathershine stopped lecturing him then. She felt a tinge of pride as she observed Shadowstep ogle her in the darkness.

"After all these years… you still find me attractive?" she asked.

Shadowstep's gaze met hers eventually, once he'd got a satisfying eyeful of her naked torso. It amazed him how she hardly aged.

He inhaled sharply, attempting to push the lust from his voice. "Dear lady, would you like me to show you how I feel? It's far easier than… talking about it." He leaned in and kissed her fiercely. Feathershine was so flattered by his aggressive romantic gesture that she was happy to give in at last. Shadowstep leaned over her then hastily undressed.

Though the woman was not sure of her feelings for him, Shadowstep's heart was very easy to read that night. He made love to Feathershine eagerly, as if his whole life depended on it.

The Legion Ranger and his succubus Svetlana stood at the edge of camp. They were bold, even testing the vigilance of Sentinels who patrolled Silvermoon Stronghold less than a mile away.

"I think that's called second base." Svetlana whispered to her master. His perfect smile widened, and bright green eyes flickered in the darkness. They watched Vermillion get very familiar with Windsong, when he was supposed to be on watch. When they were sure he was fully distracted, they moved in.

"Are we going to kill them now?" she asked again.

"Silence darling." The Ranger said. He stood by the campfire. Shadowstep's tent was only inches away.

The Ranger reached his hand over the fire, and played with the flames. His fingers singed but he smiled, enjoying the pain.

"It is so easy to read people's minds when they aren't paying attention." He flashed a look at Svetlana.

"What did you discover my Master?"

The Legion Ranger placed a forefinger over his perfect lips and gestured for Svetlana to follow him out of the camp.

"It turns out there is still a great deal to learn about Zar'teaus before we can apprehend him." He told her in the shadows.

Svetlana grimaced that she would not get to shed any blood that night and whipped her own backside to make up for it. She whimpered in pain, then giggled darkly.

The Legion Ranger was distracted by this for a moment. "We will follow them some more, and let them do all the investigation for us."

"Then we kill them?"

"Not just these four." The Legion Ranger turned his head, and in the moonlight one could see the demon horns protruding from his brow "I just happen to know four other souls that need to die. They know too much… when they all come together--because that's what families do--that is when we'll strike."

"I want the one you told me about, with sexy mana." Svetlana pouted.

The Legion Ranger looked at her sideways. "We are so _not_ fighting over another man again. That one, the assassin, is going to be mine once and for all. But, all this in due time…"


	9. Indiana Jones, Romancer style

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Ten: Indiana Jones, Romancer style  
**

"Master Shadowstep! I think we found it!" Vermillion's excited teenage boy voice rang out. He could be very awkward when he wasn't trying to be a disciplined rogue. Especially right now.

Shadowstep left off kissing Priestess Feathershine with a loud, irritated groan. The two of them weren't exactly hiding. Just beyond the column of rock. It's just that when they divided into two search parties, Shadowstep's group—which of course involved Feathershine—found the ancient Troll ruins first. While they waited for Vermillion and Windsong to find them, Shadowstep did an excellent job of convincing his girlfriend not to contact the annoying young people via Mind Vision. The desolate beach along the coast of western Azshara was romantic with the roaring ocean, the sand imbetween their toes… and one intense passionate look into his lover's eyes that Feathershine knew only the Master Rogue could pull off.

"Oh, um…" Feathershine floundered.

Shadowstep nearly snarled at Vermillion, he was so angry to be interrupted.

Vermillion recalled the fiasco at Astranaar and cowered instantly. "You said to keep her free at bedtime, not _all_ the time—"

Feathershine took half a moment to gauge what Vermillion was talking about, then flashed an angry look at her boyfriend. "Shadowstep!"

"Vermillion!" Shadowstep quickly reassigned blame.

Feathershine walked over to Windsong's side, folded her arms across her chest and raised one aqua eyebrow.

"Why don't we all start over?" Windsong cleared her throat in a diplomatic fashion. "Surely, it's only natural that we might walk in on one another during this trip, since we have two _adult_ relationships going." Windsong had an old habit of showing off where she'd learned something from her mentor Feathershine.

Feathershine gasped at her young friend. "You can hardly compare a mere infatuation to what Shadowstep and I have." Feathershine crossed back over to Shadowstep and wrapped her arm around his possessively.

This time both Windsong's eyebrows raised. That she looked a lot like Feathershine when she did it was not by coincidence, but practice.

"I _love_ him!" Windsong defended herself. "Didn't you fall in love with a certain young rogue when you were about my age?"

Feathershine's mouth opened in shock. She stepped in front of Shadowstep and balled fists at her sides. "I told you that in confidence! Now he's going to think that I—"

"You were in love with me back then?" Feathershine was afraid to answer Shadowstep's question, but she turned around to see a giddy smile on his face.

"Well, we only knew each other for a few days… you can't really call it that—"

"I've fallen in love with Vermillion because he has a devlish charm, and though he can get absorbed in his rogue-work at times, he is also very sweet, and such a gentleman." Windsong fawned on her new boyfriend. "You're just so adorable!" she smiled. Vermillion tussled his crazy green hair and blushed.

Feathershine screamed. "Those are the very things I told you I liked about Shadowstep!" She threw her hands up over her head. "He's a rouge, and Jebidiath is a rogue… you're just copying me!"

"I am not!"

"Are too!"

Shadowstep began to chuckle at the ladies' arguing. Of course, he was very clairvoyant and saw the whole thing from the start. Then, he glanced at Vermillion and frowned that the young man was enjoying the cat-fight too much.

"Alright, let's not come to blows on this issue _priestesses._" He stepped between them. He waited for Feathershine and Windsong to cool off before mentioning, "You know, for people who just learned that Night Elves are related to Trolls, I'm shocked to see that no one is freaking out about what we're going to uncover."

"Yea, instead, we're all just getting _freaky_." Vermillion joked.

Shadowstep frowned darkly at the young man. "Are you trying to make fun of me, you jolly green whelp—"

Feathershine put a finger to Shadowstep's lips. It was sufficiently distracting to end their little argument once and for all.

"Is that… what I think it is?"

The four Night Elves walked closer. The entrance to an ancient shrine jutted out of the tall rock cliff behind them. The long porch structure was supported on both sides by three rows of windswept columns. They walked imbetween them, to where double wooden doors prevented entry. The purple and gold banner of Darnassus hung over the simple doors. A stylized owl stared back at them with shining yellow eyes.

"Why is this one place so new… with doors that should have rotted away thousands of years ago, but the rubble around it so worn?" Windsong observed.

Shadowstep smiled. "A brilliant Darnassian spymaster long before my time came up with this cover. The banner is meant to scare away anyone with enough sense to avoid incurring the wrath of Darnassus. Beyond the door is a ruse of a sort… I'm not going to tell you any more about how we've been keeping this secret for generations, for your own safety."

The others shared disquieted looks.

"But if you happen to accidentally see a few things you aren't meant to…" Shadowstep carefully removed the banner from the door. It wasn't locked.

"Well that's so easy! Anyone could just—"

Shadowstep kicked the door in, hard. As soon as the wooden slats flew aside, something came at them from the shadows. The Master Rogue drew his sword faster than anyone else could react and parried the missile.

"Wait for it," he said and drew his other golden Grand Marshal blade. He held it at the ready.

A second arrow came at them, straight for Feathershine's head. Shadowstep rocked on the balls of his feet then slashed his other arm up to get that arrow as well.

Feathershine fumed. "Did you have any intention of warning us first?"

Shadowstep rolled his shoulders and sheathed his swords. He said nothing to his girlfriend but gave her a sly look that caused the priestess to blush.

_I love it when Vermillion shows off too. Both of them are so handsome aren't they?_

Feathershine's scowled at Windsong's voice in her head.

_We are NOT going to compare them, and certainly not in my mind, thank you very much._

The men were bewildered at the silent argument between the women that became evident when Feathershine marched ahead in a huff.

Statues of old gods were everywhere. One looked like a windserpent, this was certainly a primitive version of the old god Hakkar, another appeared to be a kodo, which considering the very Tauren affinity for the pack beasts gave everyone a disbelieving pause. Several spider god statues were stacked in a corner and covered in ironic heavy gray cobwebs. A statue of a hunched Troll dressed in priestly regalia lay broken in the far corner.

"Shadowstep, this is silly. Not a thing here proves that Night Elves are related to Trolls—"

Shadowstep wasn't listening. He pressed up against the wall to their right pressing stones with his hand. His long violet ear twitched as he felt the cold stone and listened… but for what?

Everyone hopped back a step when something deep inside the wall made a resounding hollow clicking noise.

The ground beneath them shook, the stone statues clattered. One fell of its pedestal, but did not break. Feathershine was thinking how odd it was for something so old and delicate to survive such a tumble when Shadowstep abruptly warned them,

"When you hit the water, take a breath and dive. Don't come back up!"

Then the floor fell away underneath them.

Windsong and Feathershine shrieked but Vermillion was laughing. For the first time in a long time, Feathershine thought she heard Shadowstep laughing too. It truly didn't surprise her that what should have been a tender moment with the rogue turned out to be an infuriating situation. It took them that long to fall. Feathershine actually had time to think this.

They crashed into smelly water. Vermillion took a deep breath and dived low, but Feathershine and Windsong were gasping for air and thrashing about in shock. Then they really did panic when something grabbed their ankles and forced them under.

The women looked down to see Shadowstep helping them below. Next, they looked up to see a barrage of arrows, lit by strange green druidic power, pierce the surface of the water and plummet toward them. That was when both priestesses had enough sense to start swimming for their lives.

Shadowstep was a very good swimmer. All Night Elves do well in the water, but Shadowstep took exceptionally confident strokes. Feathershine's heart raced to see him do it. Every lean muscle in his body was forced into the effort. Then, the Master Rogue disappeared into the dark depths. Before Feathershine could think to go after him though, a warm current of water pushed she and the rest far to the other side of the pool. It propelled them, head first into a natural break in the rock.

Feathershine washed ashore, gasping for breath. The water drenched through her blue mooncloth robe and her underwear even. Firm hands seized her by the arm and pulled her up.

"Mind the edge." Shadowstep's voice was very intimate near her ear. Except for that one place where they landed, a crumbling stone foundation built up a bank on either side of them. Vermillion leaned down to help Windsong up as well.

"Jebidiath Shadowstep, there had better be a very good reason why you put all of us in harm's way—"

"Deliah, look." The Master Rogue's voice was very gentle.

They turned to see the ruins of the most beautiful temple ever made by… Trolls? Certain elements were certainly Trollish. Writhing snake gods jutted up out of the sand on either side of two enormous marble pillars. But the pillars themselves reminded one very much of Darnassus. The sides were smooth, as if hewn from one perfect stone. The stone itself was a mesmerizing electric blue. These supported a black shingled elven roof decorated with refined carvings of forest animals. Something very familiar glowed within the structure.

Windsong was the first to walk inside. "It's a moonwell!"

Shadowstep moved Windsong's hand from where it pointed to something at the bottom of the cool glowing water. Countless miniature statues of animals, each one a different species, lined the bottom. Every bestial face looked up, eyes ablaze with the white magic of a moonwell, only… it became very clear then that this wasn't a moonwell.

"It's some bastardization—" Feathershine frowned.

"No." Shadowstep said. "This… this is the real thing."

He leaned over the side and got a handful of the water. "Take a sip, Deliah."

Feathershine's eyes bulged. "I will not!"

Shadowstep shrugged and drank it himself. "There's nothing wrong with it."

Windsong and Vermillion tried it too. "It tastes like… it's so hard to describe." The young rogue frowned.

"Purer than the purest water. More rich and enchanting than the most sacred moonwell. The true power of nature is harnessed here, channeled through these animal idols." Shadowstep turned to Feathershine, eyes kind. "Your faith need not be challenged, love. Elune is the same as this. Doesn't this temple make you feel enlightened, comforted… just like in Darnassus?"

Feathershine looked at the pool warily. Then, she leaned down and took a sip of the liquid as well.

"Dear goddess!" she exclaimed. "This tastes like… like Light. Like the Light itself! I know the power, it flows through me when I cast a strong spell, it's in my hand now, and on my lips… how did they harness it?"

She looked up at Shadowstep. He appeared different now… he sparkled. Vermillion and Windsong sparkled too. And then… she noticed something else.

"We… don't really have tusks, do we?" Feathershine asked.

Shadowstep reached for her, as if he were in a dark place and navigating life for the first time. "No. But the water is the Light, as you said. We are seeing our true selves, unchanged by time, or war, natural disasters that made some of us come out tall and sleek like Night Elves or crouched and savage like Trolls." Shadowstep found Feathershine's shoulder and drew her into a hug. "You understand the Light don't you? Certainly better than even I do."

"How do we know we aren't just hallucinating? Trolls are always abusing herbs and other magic to see and feel strange things." Windsong asked.

Shadowstep nodded and took Feathershine by the hand. They went deeper into the temple. The place was glorious. In the largest room, finer versions of the statues they'd seen upstairs sat on stone pedestals of various sizes. Some old gods were clearly less important than others. Two at the highest eschelon caught Feathershine's eye. A fierce windserpent wrapped his tail around the tall column that was its perch. Even the many tiny scales had been carved with care. The tail curled elegantly where it almost graced the ground. It had to be Hakkar.

A great bear god was humbled on all fours. The stone carving captured a spirit as strong and noble as that of the Great Bear spirit in Moonglade.

"I like the raptor." Vermillion pointed to a vicious snarling stone statue that looked a lot like a Devilsaur. Even frothing saliva had been carved into its jowls.

"Look." Shadowstep stopped at the center of the pantheon of old gods and knelt down. He used his boot and a shirt sleeve to rub away a thick layer of dust. Everyone stared at what he'd revealed for a long time before they understood.

Life-sized statues of devout worshippers, stood looking up at the old gods through a glass ceiling beneath the Night Elves' feet. The faces were elven, the tusks trollish, the long ears… they were what they had always been, what they now were. Some faces of the men had faded paint, the women had markings of leaf and feral patterns over their eyes. All smiled up at Shadowstep and the others in awe. It made the Night Elves want to look up at the amazing deities around them as well. They did.

"It feels like… home." Priestess Feathershine wondered. "Why does this make so much sense? They adore these creatures, whether beautiful or fierce or noble, the same way our druids do. All the truths about our races come together in this one place."

Shadowstep walked to the other end of the round room and dusted off a small black altar.

"I've been here before." He admitted. Everyone looked at him curiously so he explained, "When I first learned of it almost seventy years ago, I had to see for myself. I never thought it would be so useful now, or that I'd even be able to share it with anyone. Many of a Master Rogue's secrets are like this, amazing to behold, yet terrifying to share. Can you imagine what would happen if anyone found this place by accident, and misinterpreted everything? I helped to guide your understanding, but anyone else might be revolted at first glance. This is a dangerous place and needs to be protected. Can I trust you with this little… piece of myself that I've shared today?"

Of course they would. Feathershine felt she was just getting to know Jebidiath Shadowstep.

"We could examine all the statues in this room, and I've counted--there are at least three hundred of them—for one called Zar'teaus. Then we'd know everything we need about his make up, his strengths and weaknesses. However, we don't have time for that… in fact, it's a waste of our time. This altar is inscribed with every single name. Of course the last time I was here, I didn't memorize all of them. But, if Zar'teaus is really an Old God with a history, and not some strange monster bent on destroying your children's lives, this would be the place to find out."

Feathershine walked over to the altar on wobbly legs. Shadowstep looked like a Night Elf again. The effects of the ancient moonwell water were fading, she realized. The names on the round altar were arranged in the very same order as the god statues. The ones at the rim were in the largest letters.

Windsong, ever the avid student, found the name before everyone else and thrust a finger out. "He's that one over there… the gigantic Devilsaur."

"What is a Devilsaur weak against, Windsong?" Vermillion asked.

"And that in itself, is the crux of our dysfunction." Shadowstep said, without realizing it.

Feathershine raised a curious eyebrow at him.

"What I mean is… they aren't weak against anything really. A Devilsaur is just a cruel and starving monster, plain and simple. You can't see one coming. When they arrive, there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Like a Fel Reaver."

"A what?" Feathershine boggled.

"It's this gigantic Burning Legion war machine… they patrol Hellfire Peninsula in Outland. Wait, that was supposed to be another Master Rogue secret." Shadowstep sighed. "Oh well."

They wandered around in awe for hours before Shadowstep warned them they had to go. When the tide went out in the evening, they could walk back through the tunnel where the water once was to the underground basin and out of a second tunnel to the beach. Outside, the tunnel exit was so steep no one could climb back up that way once they descended. Reluctant, all four Night Elves turned their backs on the first great temple of a race that they didn't even have a name for. Yet, it touched all of them deeply, explained all the mysteries of Azeroth. They would certainly keep something so sacred to themselves.

That evening, they made camp among the massive auburn pines at Bear's Head. Both Feathershine and Shadowstep were friendly with the tribe of Furblogs.

When dinner was over Feathershine wordlessly slipped into Shadowstep's tent without being asked. Her boyfriend followed.

"I take it you want to speak with me about today?"

Feathershine took a long time to respond. "I can't believe that… we've known each other for nearly all our lives and I didn't even know this about you. You are a deeply spiritual person."

"No I'm not."

"You are. That place means a great deal to you. Thank you so much for sharing it with all of us. I know you, you intended to keep that to yourself. Just like… you always schemed to keep me to yourself."

Shadowstep rested his folded elbows on his knees. "You put it well, Deliah. Perhaps you'd make a good rogue afterall."

"No. You're a good rogue, the very best rogue in all of Azeroth for guarding something so precious. I… adore you."

Feathershine pulled Shadowstep's arms apart and made him lie down. She lay on top of him and wrapped her arms about his neck. "I'm sorry Jebidiath. But one day, when I'm ready to say it, you'll know that I truly love you. And then there will be nothing else left to do about it but get married."

Shadowstep looked saddened by this. "Deliah, I have loved you for my entire life. It never waned… I don't understand how you've grown to hate me so much."

"But I don't—"

"We know who Zar'teaus is now. That helps with the 'why', I suppose… I suppose there really wasn't very much information in the temple besides his statue. Tomorrow, we'll head back towards Darnassus and speak to my contact in the Exodar. From him, we should be able to learn what demon that badge belonged to. At least your children's murderers should be obvious then."

Shadowstep gently moved away from Feathershine. "But… what happens after that?" she asked him.

"What matters after that? We'll have been out for forty days. This whole thing will be over, and you can go back to rejecting me."

"But I said seventy."

Shadowstep was too drained, both physically and emotionally to design a lie to cover that. "Goodnight, Deliah." His low, melancholy whisper barely reached Feathershine's ears.

When Svetlana was done listening at the edge of camp, she waltzed back into the darkness to inform her Master.


	10. Feathershine explains a lot of things

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Ten: Feathershine explains a whole lot of things  
**

Priestess Feathershine felt like she was falling for Jebidiath Shadowstep all over again. She watched the way that he rode confidently on his striped nightsaber. She cleared her throat when Shadowstep glanced in her direction, self conscious.

"Everything alright, Deliah?" he sounded concerned.

Feathershine started to say that she wished he'd made love to her the night before, that she felt the time they spent at odds had been wasted, but she was embarrassed to even think of offering herself so freely. Of course, she and Shadowstep slept together every night of their journey so far, but that was only to keep up her end of the bargain. Did she truly miss the attention now that Shadowstep was starting to give her the space she wanted at the outset?

"When we pass through Astranaar again… perhaps you should buy me something."

Shadowstep frowned at the offer. He missed Feathershine's roundabout invitation completely.

"Deliah, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not. You don't truly care for me… and I don't want to make you feel obligated."

Feathershine screwed up her face with disdain. "What? Where's the manipulative Master Rogue I know so well…" she snapped her mouth shut. "Um… dearest, what I mean is… what's gotten into you? We're at odds somehow, and I don't remember getting on your bad side."

The soft footfalls of their Nightsabers and the cheerful music of Ashenvale songbirds filled in the silence that came next.

"Jebidiath? Are you listening to me?"

Shadowstep turned to face her, slowly. "Sorry about that Deliah. I was just thinking… I am trying to pinpoint the exact moment that you started hating me. It must have been the time I stole your clothing while you bathed in the Moonwell at the Oracle Glade years ago. Was that it?"

Feathershine raised both eyebrows. "What in Elune's name are you going on about—"

"Master Shadowstep!" Vermillion's panicked tone interrupted them.

Shadowstep sighed. "It's that whelp again." He grumbled to his girlfriend. Shadowstep called a few yards ahead to where Vermillion and Windsong were riding on the road. "What's the matter?"

Vermillion stopped his saber and Windsong did too. Shadowstep griped something about how 'now they were going to have to stop moving altogether because the whelp was paranoid.' Vermillion had been complaining about feeling watched all morning.

When Shadowstep and Feathershine got close the young rogue confided, "There was a naked woman in the road, and she was watching us!"

Shadowstep rolled his eyes. "That is because you were staring at her, amateur."

"Jebidiath, why does it sound like you are counseling the boy on merely getting caught?" Feathershine accused.

Vermillion looked from one adult to another, troubled. He rubbed the reddened side of his face where Windsong clearly slapped him. Windsong looked displeased.

"From the way Windsong is sulking, I suppose there really was someone." Shadowstep slyly observed. He dismounted and stealthed.

"What did she look like, Vermillion?" Feathershine asked.

"She wasn't very tall, but she was really…" he cleared his throat.

"The word you want is busty, Vermillion." Feathershine sighed.

"I _know that_, but I don't want her to slap me again." The young man chanced a smile at his girlfriend, but Windsong wouldn't budge.

_Will you let him off the hook a bit, dear? I can't read anything substantial from his mind if he's so nervous._ Feathershine told Windsong mentally.

_I'll accept your relationship advice when you accept mine._ Feathershine blanched at the young woman's cold response.

"There's no one about." Shadowstep came back then and decloaked. Priestess Feathershine flinched at just how close he had been standing behind her. Shadowstep excused himself, which surprised Feathershine even more, then mounted back up.

"Blue skin… and… _wings_?" Feathershine concluded the results of her Mind Vision spell aloud. "Vermillion, the image in your mind is of the Spirit Guide which greets souls at graveyards."

Vermillion inched his mount away from Windsong and whispered to the two grown people. "It wasn't that… it wasn't even a Night Elf woman. I've seen one naked before—"

"Where?" Shadowstep rudely interjected. He had a hard time believing the awkward young rogue could ever manage to do better than Priestess Windsong. To the Master Rogue, that Vermillion even dated the bright and competent priestess was sheer luck.

Vermillion blushed. "Well, I was in Astranaar a few months ago, and there was this crazy shadowpriestess. She and her husband were streaking—"

Feathershine's eyes bulged. "We don't need to hear about that!" she snapped. Shadowstep started laughing. Feathershine flashed angry eyes at the Master Rogue. "And if you make one comment about my daughter's mental state, I am going to rescind my offer to let you buy me a present in Astranaar."

That was when Shadowstep realized what Feathershine had been implying earlier. His mood darkened instantly.

"The woman I just saw had wings and horns!"

Feathershine and Shadowstep shared a look.

_Perhaps it's just the demon pet of a Horde warlock?_ Feathershine asked Shadowstep in his mind.

Shadowstep shook his head. "No, Deliah." He answered aloud, the only way that he could since he was no priest. "I've only ever seen people with red ones."

"Huh?" Vermillion gawked at the half conversation.

_True. I've never seen a blue succubus before… except for in Silithus! Jebidiath, a Twilight Cultist really is following us, like you said!_

Shadowstep's frown darkened. He didn't truly believe his own theory, when the Mission Implausible was so carefully planned over the last few years. A few weeks ago, it was mostly a lie to comfort Feathershine after she fretted about her mistake in Silithus. Shadowstep would have never hired Vermillion of all people if he believed a member of the Twilight's Hammer cult was really following them. "But that's… just not possible, Deliah. There is no way—"

_You said so yourself!_ Feathershine cut him off. Having your thoughts stifled in your head before you could even express them was worse than someone speaking over you. Shadowstep grimaced at how he could not even hear himself think now. _You said that it wasn't Zar'teaus following us, and that it was a Twilight Cultist. Now we know for sure!_ _What are we going to do?_

"There's nothing to be done! She's just watching us… if her master wanted us dead, we'd _be_ dead by now. It's probably best to just act natural."

Both Vermillion and Windsong had doe eyes opened so wide that Shadowstep instantly realized his mistake.

"I suppose… I suppose I should have kept that part of the conversation to myself." He didn't bother apologizing though.

_Priestess! What's going on!_ Windsong pleaded with Feathershine.

_Nothing at all… I'm sure that whatever it is, Shadowstep already has a plan to manage it._

_Shadowstep! What are we going to do?_ Priestess Feathershine panicked in the Master Rogue's head next.

This time, Shadowstep rode ahead of the young people and calmly motioned for Feathershine to follow.

"Deliah, just act natural. I don't want you to panic about what I'm going to say next."

Priestess Feathershine firmly grabbed the reigns of her nightsaber. She braced herself for the worst.

"I thought Vermillion and I could handle whatever it was… I was wrong. This is beyond my skill alone, I know for a fact because… " Shadowstep was ready to say more but he hesitated.

"Dammit, Shadowstep! I'm a Priestess of Elune, not one of your lackeys. I can take whatever it is, so spit it out."

Shadowstep slowed his striped nightsaber to a walk once they were a good distance from the others. Feathershine followed his lead.

"We need to hire an assassin." Shadowstep shook his head, disappointed in how he'd misjudged the situation. "This is no longer just a reconnaissance mission, our security is at risk. We also need an expert on dealing with Twilight Cultists… you may hate me for this, but I know only one person capable of handling both ends of this problem efficiently and without asking us too many questions, for your sake… I think you know the man I'm referring to."

Priestess Feathershine patted her mount idly as she thought about it. "Opalbane will be angry if we put her husband in danger again. And Alessandre will be furious with me when he finds out that I stole away to Silithus and put his wife in danger. I don't see how we can get him to come without upsetting everyone."

Shadowstep smirked. "Only a priestess would care so much about people's feelings that she would be intimidated into inaction when the stakes are high."

"We can't ask Alessandre to help us! Besides, he's halfway across the world, attending a wedding."

Shadowstep grinned wickedly. "That is exactly why he _will_ help us. He does not want to upset his wife. He is not going to ruin her special moment as the maid of honor in Willypearl's wedding. Furthermore, he wants to protect Opalbane, so he will be here with bells on." his smile widened. "Furthermore, he will not tell Opalbane or High Priestess Tyrande or anyone else because we know all of _his_ dangerous secrets."

Feathershine lowered her eyes. "And to believe I… actually objected to your manipulating him. I see now why you wanted to keep some leverage on Alessandre after his trial. Now, because I let you have your way…" she admitted regretfully, "Alessandre will do whatever we ask of him, at a moment's notice."

"No questions asked," Shadowstep reminded Feathershine. "You will be safe from blame and so will I."

"What would he blame you for?" Feathershine asked.

Shadowstep cleared his throat. "After that long hot summer several years ago, when you went bathing… I took your clothes because I wanted to see you naked."

Feathershine became flustered immediately. "Why do I get the feeling there is something you aren't telling me! Why did you change the subject? Are you lying to me about something, Jebidiath Shadowstep?"

"Just answer my question, and maybe I'll tell you."

Priestess Feathershine fumed. "You haven't even asked me a question yet." Then she got quiet. This was clearly the point of him requesting her compliance now. The question was not a savory one, but if he manipulated her into promising an answer beforehand, Shadowstep would be sure to get it no matter how outlandish his request was.

"You're manipulating me in the same way that we are about to manipulate Alessandre." Feathershine observed. "If I could still read your mind these days, I would know what you are hiding by now."

"You are learning fast, Deliah." Shadowstep narrowed predatory eyes at her. "And it is hard to read a man's mind when it's as dirty as my own… I thought you would catch on that I'm only conjuring up distracting images to throw you off. It's worked well for decades, might I add." Feathershine sighed and agreed to give him whatever information he wanted in exchange for his secret.

"Why… and don't dare skirt the question again, do you hate me so much?"

Priestess Feathershine floundered. "Of all the ridiculous—"

"Was it because I made you walk naked back to Darnassus from the Oracle Glade after you broke up with me?"

"No."

"It must be because I lied to you that time, when I first became Master Rogue and said I had a fever… don't you remember Deliah? None of the other priestesses were brave enough to stand my temper but I let you near me. Then I said I had the chills so you would crawl into the bed with me. And we ended up… that's how started sleeping together again. Was that it?"

"No." Feathershine sounded even more angry now.

"Well… maybe it was after all those times I kept tricking you into my bed, when you finally gave up resisting my advances? I think that was the Winter's Veil before I pretended to fall off of Teldrassil. Do you recall that?"

"That was the same winter Onyxbane and Opalbane had a huge fight with me about trying to take their mother's place. They were barely teenagers but they wouldn't speak to me during that entire season." Feathershine finally exploded, "And do you know what you were doing while I cried and begged Elune to help them understand that I meant well?"

Shadowstep began shaking his head. "I don't remember Onyxbane and Opalbane ever hating you—"

"Because you never pay any attention to me! It was the worst Winter's Veil of my entire life, and you spent it moaning and groaning about your broken ankle when I _knew_ that you didn't have one. The only way I could get you to stop being so annoying was to sleep with you, like all those other times."

Shadowstep looked truly offended. "Is that… what we've been doing all this time? We've been sleeping together because you pity me?"

Priestess Feathershine stopped her mount. She flushed violet, she was so angry.

"You're still not listening to me! I LIKE YOU!" She threw her hands up into the air. "I have always liked you, I find you charming and irresistible, I like how you hold me, how you speak to me, how you touch me…" she began to cry with her frustration. "You ruined me for other men long ago, only you are too focused on your work and living even your personal life like the Master Rogue. You can't see the good thing you have right in front of your face." She had to stop and take a breath, "I would walk a thousand miles, naked, just for you to look at me the way you did back in Azshara, like you own the world, like you own me... you made me feel like a lovesick school girl again. No one has ever made me feel that free, and priestesses have so many obligations, especially these days. Shadowstep, you allow me to let my hair down and be ridiculous or mean. I never get to do that in Darnassus. But, because you won't listen to me, because you are so self-centered and focused on how sneaky you can be, or how well you can out-think someone else, you've managed to talk yourself out of a relationship, time and again. I keep waiting for you to come around, for the magic to happen once more like it did on our first Springtime, but it never does."

Priestess Feathershine began to cry. "I'm starting to think that you are incapable of really loving me, because you can't see beyond the end of your nose. Jebidiath, I don't pity you, I could never pity you. To me you are amazing, brilliant. I wish that I could be as open about my true desires as you are. By Elune! You are even starting to make me doubt my own convictions about using people because now Alessandre is going to help us out of this mess, thanks to your clairvoyance."

Priestess Feathershine got off her mount and began walking away into the forest. Shadowstep ran after her.

"Deliah! Wait." He got his arms around her and held her while she fell apart. She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and he rocked her gently.

"Why is it that everything I've ever done," she sobbed, "to get you back, to be a good priestess, or save my children… has turned to ashes? But everything you do, even if it is mean-spirited, makes people respect you, and you get to be the hero?"

"Are you… jealous of me?"

Feathershine buried her face deeper into his shirt. "Yes."

It was a perfect time to tell her that all the failures of her life were by design and not by accident, not her fault. Shadowstep couldn't believe that all his efforts to get Feathershine back over the years actually pushed her away. He was glad that Feathershine had become too upset now to ask her question in exchange. In fact, he aimed at getting her so frazzled with his conjuring up bad memories to protect against that.

"But… why? You can have me. I would have welcomed you. I'd do anything for you, Deliah."

Priestess Feathershine sat down in the grass and Shadowstep got comfortable beside her. Feathershine lay her head on his shoulder. "I already know that you would lie and cheat and steal for me," she sniffled, "But I want you to stop doing those sinister things for me."

Shadowstep almost laughed. "That's like asking me to stop being the Master Rogue, Deliah."

Priestess Feathershine didn't confirm the request, because Shadowstep had already made it obvious.

He got quiet, then finally said. "No, that's asking too much. I worked hard for all my success and it's not fair."

"Two weeks after I returned from Feralas and I broke off the engagement, we began sleeping together again. That was after you first became the Master Rogue. Back then, you were just silly and sweet. I saw right through your mischief, I knew that you weren't really sick or had the chills. I crawled into bed with you to keep you warm because I wanted to be with you again." Feathershine sat up and looked Jebidiath in the eye. Her face was wet with tears. "We kept sleeping together afterward, but whatever it was that we started up again… a relationship, a friendship… just fell apart. You were more concerned about your work than with me. And at some point… I couldn't read your mind anymore. You started keeping things from me, though now I know how you're doing it. But why did you ever feel the need to shut me out? I am not asking you to change who you are, Jebidiath. I am asking you to change whom you've become."

Shadowstep forced his gaze to settle somewhere else. He did not want to see how he was hurting the woman he loved, by doing his job.

Priestess Feathershine pushed out of his arms and stood. "And even now, though you've essentially rejected me yet again, I still want to sleep with you. I keep hoping that one day, I'll wake up in your arms and everything will be just like it once was." She sighed while waiting forever for Shadowstep's answer. The whistle of a bird high up in a tree seemed to deliver her from the melancholy moment. "Fine then. I'm used to your silence. Come, love, take my hand and we'll finish the journey to the Exodar. But before that, we need to send a letter to Alessandre, right? Ah, I am getting old. I almost forgot about that part."

Shadowstep was so angry about his strategic defeat over the last few years that he missed the most important thing about what his girlfriend said: that she loved him.


	11. Farewell Willypearl, Hello Baby Doe

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Twelve: Farewell to Willypearl, Hello to Baby Doe  
**

Adeiline the Undead crawled on her belly underneath the many rows of decorated chairs at Willypearl's wedding. Each wooden chair had been fitted with a white cloth skirt and a ribbon tied sprig of charming baby's breath. Adeiline sensed that the baby Zar'teaus wanted was nearby, but she couldn't find the child for some reason.

Once the Bishop began his lengthy speech over the Human couple, Alessandre the rouge leaned over and planted a warm kiss on his wife's neck. His chair creaked and Adeline lay flat on her stomach to keep from bumping her head. She heard the shadowpriestess Opalbane shudder.

"Al…" she whispered, but it came out a bit breathy, "This is not the time or place for that." He kissed her again, and left a little bite mark on her pale skin. Opalbane exhaled sharply. She couldn't hide her smile.

"No one is even looking at us." Alessandre whispered into his wife's ear and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Opalbane glanced around at the assembly. As the Maid of Honor at Willypearl's wedding, the shadowpriestess had a seat in the very front row. Unlike at her and Alessandre's wedding several months ago, a sea of Human, Dwarf and Gnome faces filled the clearing behind the groom's family land at Eastvale Logging Camp. Each solemn expression focused on the bride and groom, and not her scandalous Night Elf guests for once that day. Knight Elec Pontier's family bred paladin chargers for generations, and were highly reputable in Stormwind.

Adeiline giggled to herself over Alessandre's comment. Maybe he _thought_ no one was looking…

"I bet there's enough gold jingling in the pockets of this crowd for Wisthera and I to have a field day." Alessandre smirked, and hugged Opalbane closer. He was a rogue afterall.

Opalbane smiled, and they tried to listen to more of the Bishop's sermon. The most powerful and wealthy members of the clergy, paladins of the Silver Hand, and Stormwind nobility were in attendance. It was rumored that Opalbane's best friend Willypearl had even invited the King of Stormwind to the affair, but since he'd been missing for years, it was mostly a formality.

"Can you even believe that Wisthera is pregnant?" Opalbane got bored and whispered to her husband again. "That is certainly _not_ the wily con artist I once knew… and she looks like she is bound to deliver soon."

Underneath their chair, Adeline perked up at the news and bumped her head.

Alessandre was jostled in his chair from underneath. He was tempted to pull the white cloth skirt up from around the seat and see for himself, but his wife saw him fidgeting and nudged him not to make a scene. Alessandre waited for an especially verbose part of the Bishop's speech to say, "I think you're shocked about it for reasons other than Wisthera's checkered past." He stole a kiss from his wife when she began to object. "I know you, Opalbane. You are the one with the infamous husband… you wish that you were having a baby."

Opalbane flushed. "If one more woman asks _the _Alessandre if he is really married now and then slyly offers to become your mistress, I will be doling out many very painful vampiric embraces to female guests."

Alessandre looked sad. "Moonlily, I used to be proud of my reputation… but I feel terrible about it now. I see how my old bad habits are affecting the woman I chose for life." He kissed Opalbane's hand. "I would be insane without you, remember? I need you in my life, I adore you."

Opalbane looked at Wisthera's round belly across the main aisle and seethed. "I _am_ happy for my brother. I just wish more people here were interested in my friend Willypearl and Knight Elec Pontier getting married, and _not _how Willypearl started up a chain of lingerie stores to sell off all the things she tailored while secretly in love with my brother."

"I think 'Willy's Secret' is a great name for a lingerie store. And it's about time tailors started making something more useful than mooncloth robes." Alessandre shrugged.

Opalbane flashed an angry look at Alessandre. "And now she has _you_ in on it too. The scandal has grown from the Night Elf she was obsessed with, who inspired a pair of lucky red men's underthings, to Onyxbane's brother-in-law who women refer to as _the _Alessandre"

Alessandre cut his wife off. "Remember, I asked you permission first before accepting Willypearl's offer to become a spokesmodel for her stores. Besides…" he got a whimsical look in his eye. "Don't you think that if there is going to be a pantheon of incredible Alliance lovers, that I should be on that list?" then he paused dramatically, "I am _the_ Alessandre afterall."

"You are about to put all those exceptional love making skills to work by yourself this evening if you keep up this argument."

Using good assassin instinct, Alessandre left off fighting a battle he knew was impossible to win.

"I love you, Moonlily," he went for supplication instead, and began to purr like a real Nightsaber. Opalbane rolled her eyes, but started smiling.

Adeiline wondered how she was going to get across the grass to the other rows of chairs. The Undead woman heard that the rogue Wisthera and Onyxbane were sitting right across the aisle… Adeiline squinted a glowing yellow eye when she realized there was no way she could sneak to the other side and not get caught. Adeiline sighed and skulked away, to the safety of interlaced trees beyond the wedding area.

Across the aisle, Wisthera lay her head on Onyxbane's shoulder.

"That feels nice," her warrior boyfriend smiled.

"What? The heat, or all the people staring at the ex-con artist, ex-convict, baby's mamma to the famous ex-boyfriend of Willypearl, owner of every Willy's Secret lingerie store? Oh, excuse me, I forgot that everyone in the Alliance knows what Willy's Secret is by now!" Wisthera frowned darkly and placed both hands on her large stomach.

Onyxbane panicked. He flashed a desperate look to tactful his brother-in-law for mediation but Alessandre was busy across the aisle romancing his big sister Opalbane, as usual.

"Those two need to really get a room." Onyxbane frowned too.

Wisthera's mood changed instantly. Onyxbane disliked that Wisthera, like many women, still clearly had an attraction to _the _Alessandre, even though the famous lover was finally taken. Alessandre's recent addition to the family of romancers was connecting together some strange love triangles, or pentagons… whatever. "Oh, I _adore_ Alessandre." Wisthera blushed. "He's so sweet, and look how in love they are, just like we used to be."

Onyxbane raised both eyebrows. He and his girlfriend 'used to be' hardly more than strangers nine months ago, when they had what was supposed to be a one night stand at a shady bar near Blackrock Mountain… why was Wisthera talking about them like they were an old married couple? They really hadn't been together for very long. Then, Onyxbane realized where all Wisthera's bitterness was probably coming from.

"We'll get married someday, Sara, don't worry." He patted her leg.

"Is this the 'don't worry, Willypearl and I are just friends,' kind, or the 'don't worry, I didn't cut myself too bad on the Reaper this time around' kind. Cause I hate both!" Wisthera raised her voice to a shout without realizing it.

From up on the abundantly decorated white dais, Willypearl the Human mage gaped at the Night Elf Wisthera. The look was so embarrassed, it nearly ruined the perfect silk wedding dress, her paladin fiancée Elec on bended knee in his gold plate and the four Silver Hand paladins holding sabers above the heads of the couple. Did I also mention that a moonbeam had been conjured on the spot?

Wisthera winced and excused herself to the shocked crowd.

The bishop forced a kindly smile and said, "Let us try that again… If ever there was a reason, by the Light, that these two people should not be wed, let that soul speak now or forever hold his… _or her_ peace." The bishop added spitefully at the end.

Wisthera burrowed her face in Onyxbane's blue plate-clad shoulder.

Up on the dais, Elec whispered to his fiancée Willypearl, "My mother told you not to invite your friends. You gave them a room, and free meals at my home and look how they managed to ruin our wedding anyway."

Willypearl narrowed her eyes and her dark skin flushed a deeper shade of cocoa. "Honey, Wisthera is _not_ my friend, and I intend to forget her and my stupid boyfriend Onyxbane as soon as this wedding is done." that heavy Westfall accent followed Willypearl everywhere, even into the most formal of occasions.

Elec sighed and covered his face with his hand. "Sweetheart, I think you meant to say '_her_ boyfriend', not '_my _boyfriend.' Do you see how that's different?"

Willypearl apologized profusely to Elec.

And then, as if that weren't enough, a paladin holding his gleaming saber over Elec's shoulder mumbled, "There's an Undead presence at this wedding."

Elec glared at the man over his shoulder.

"Well there _is_." A second paladin on their left insisted. "I've been feeling it all day… it's somewhere to the east, I think, where those trees are. I'm so relieved that I'm not the only one. I thought I was going crazy."

Elec sighed. "I feel it too. I just thought it was wedding jitters though… but please, let's not go and see to it. There's enough scandal here today, and I don't want to bring the problems in Darkshire _across_ the river." He whispered.

"I pronounce you, husband and wife." The Bishop finished loudly before the paladins could delve any deeper into their suspicions. Then, he whispered harshly to Elec, "If you think I am going to let you all postpone this wedding and ruin my schedule one more time…" Elec patted the old man on the back and thanked him for ending the ceremony, from the bottom of his heart.

Elec helped Willypearl onto her feet and kissed her tenderly, as was custom. "I _do_ love you, Elec." Willypearl pleaded with her now brand new husband. "I'm just still so very angry at them, that's all. That voyage to Silithus with Priestess Feathershine, Onyxbane and Wisthera to get Opalbane from the cultists five months ago was one boat ride I should have never taken… it sure did bring me a donkeyload of misery." Then, she added, "Though I am glad my friend Opalbane is alright now." Elec hugged Willypearl in response. Paladins of the Silver Hand are very good at forgiveness.

"I love you, with all your faults--even if your worst one is a male elf fetish--no matter what anyone says." Elec kissed Willypearl again, then began to walk her down the aisle. The nobles gathered began clapping gently for the married couple. Elec waved a hand in golden gauntlet to the crowd.

Then they passed by the Night Elves. Willypearl saw her new husband flash a look of death at Onyxbane. Poor Onyxbane tried to hide behind Wisthera.

"I bet I should design a pair of underwear for you too, right?" Willypearl told Elec.

Elec patted Willypearl's hand on his arm. "I also want to be a spokesmodel too, like Onyxbane and Alessandre. Oh, and the piece you name after me had better be even bigger than that 'extra large male Night Elf' size your fans are so wild about. Then, we can finally call all this craziness even."

"Done." Elec's new wife was a very good business woman. The two of them were going to be just fine.

Far off to the east, among the trees, Adeiline sat behind a large Elm with a kerchief in her lap. Two angry Old God eyes peered at the Undead woman from inside the dirty glass jar.

Zarteaus tapped on the jar, and Adeiline leaned down to let him out.

"What are you going on about?" he asked, annoyed.

"Oh, it's just this wedding… it's so cheerful, like one I had during my un-Undead days." Adeiline smiled.

Zar'teaus sighed a long, tortured thousands of years old breath. "Nevermind that, you rot-for-brains. Did you find the baby, like I asked?"

Adeiline nodded. "Yes." She chanced a look around the tree, and saw that no one was watching her. "See that Night Elf woman there, with the long green hair?"

Zar'teaus wafted around the tree and looked for himself.

"Oh, I see… we are going to have to wait a bit longer."

Adeiline finished drying her eyes and sat back down. "But not for very long… I heard the Night Elves talking, and I'm even more sure of it because I studied with apothecaries, the finest Lady Sylvanas has to offer when I was with the Forsaken. I can tell that woman will be due soon."

Zar'teaus frowned at Adeiline through his rotted jowls. "And if she isn't?" he hovered expectantly for the answer his servant knew he wanted.

"Then, I can make her due." Adeiline confirmed their plan. But, Adeiline sounded sad to be plotting against fellow mother... even if it had been in another life, long ago.

_That same day, at the Exodar…_

"Ho there, Anchorite Orlick." Shadowstep greeted the tall blue-skinned Draenei in priestly robes. Orlick turned from the magical projector of Legion demons he was studying and greeted the Darnassian Master Rogue. The wavering pink image of a Terrorfiend hummed loudly before Orlick pressed a panel at the base of the crystalline machine and it sputtered out.

Shadowstep looked over both shoulders and then lowered his voice. The Vault of Lights was beautiful around them. Draenei were giving tours of the place to curious members of their new Alliance. The many amazing glowing treasures of the Naaru made the whole place feel like a temple, not an interdimensional vessel of travel.

"I trust," the Draenei said in his thickly accented Common, "Zat you have come to call in ze favor I owe, Master Rogue."

Shadowstep smiled wickedly. "Oh yes, my friend. I kept a secret of yours, and you know very well that High Priestess Tyrande would have never advocated for your people to join the Alliance if not for my quick thinking."

Anchorite Orlick nodded and the blue tentacles under his chin wagged. "Oh yes, my friend. Zere is an old saying in my language, 'travel ze road followed by few.' I thank you for being so kind to us. I will share ze information we discovered months ago as if it were a brand new surprise." his face lit up as if practicing his act, "For ze benefit of your lady friend." He bowed.

Priestess Feathershine rounded the corner then. Shadowstep cleared his throat loudly.

"Deliah, this is Anchorite Orlick, the contact I was telling you about."

Priestess Feathershine looked relieved. "Oh thank goodness! Shadowstep said he couldn't find you, I was so worried that you weren't here afterall, and our cause lost. Lucky you found him first, Jebidiath." She smiled kindly.

Jebidiath chuckled. "Am I the Master Rogue, or am I the Master Rogue?" he joked. Orlick winked at him, a bit too conspicuously, and then returned his own hearty laughter.

Feathershine raised a curious eyebrow.

"Oh, where are those young people!" Shadowstep quickly changed the subject. "The tour of the Exodar Legion records is about to begin without them."

The projector machines whirred and clicked in the awkward silence that followed. Priestess Feathershine attempted to read her boyfriend's mind then, but glaring images of them in bed together doing things she would never dare to do was the result. Feathershine instantly recoiled, and gave up the Mind Vision spell. _Wow, that really does work._ She thought idly. Frustrated, Feathershine watched Shadowstep smile to himself.


	12. The jig is up Shadowstep!

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Twelve: The jig is up, Shadowstep! It's a shaman shakedown...  
**

Shadowstep excused himself to Anchorite Orlick and took Priestess Feathershine aside. "Deliah, I just remembered something… we have to get rid of the young people before meeting Alessandre in Auberdine. If he is going to do his best work, then he has to be himself and… there are certain dangerous things we don't want Windsong and Vermillion to know about our secret weapon."

Feathershine sighed. "Alessandre is a _person _dear. He is a very special person." She began smiling in a way that got Shadowstep instantly jealous. Feathershine caught onto his look and composed herself. "Alright, I agree. This has to be done stealthily, or else I will be in a great deal of trouble with Tyrande, yet again. I think that she is short on patience these days, even for a Priestess of Elune."

"Just with you, Deliah." Shadowstep boldly joked. "She adores me. I am going to retire very well."

Feathershine frowned. Vermillion and Windsong came up then. They were holding hands.

"Vermillion and I made up!" Windsong cheerfully announced.

"Oh, good for you dear." Feathershine smiled. "Shall we begin the tour then, Anchorite Orlick?"

The tall Draenei bowed gracefully. "Right this way, my Night Elf friends."

Shadowstep wasn't listening to any of Orlick's droning lecture. He'd heard it all before, and he was barely able to survive it then. Vermillion stepped on his foot, and Shadowstep exhaled loudly.

"Watch it whelp." He snapped.

Vermillion apologized, but Shadowstep knew the young man didn't mean it. He was doing it on purpose. Vermillion had been accidentally brushing up against his mentor all evening. Clearly Vermillion wanted to ask Shadowstep something but didn't feel welcome enough. Shadowstep was content to keep the young man feeling unwelcome… unless Vermillion was going to keep stepping on his polished black leather boots.

"Fine, I'll bite. What's wrong with you?"

Vermillion slowed his pace so that the ladies went ahead with their tour guide and he could whisper. "I think I… I want to ask Windsong to marry me."

Shadowstep stopped walking. "You… you WHAT?"

"I love her so much. And that fight we had back in Ashenvale when I saw the naked woman and she slapped me… I realized that I might lose her forever. And I can't live like that. I don't want to make her mad ever again. I just want to hold onto her."

Shadowstep knew the feeling. But he really didn't get the part about staying in a woman's good graces. It was completely unnecessary if you knew how to keep certain things to yourself.

Shadowstep shook his head. "I am asking this only once, Vermillion. Did you get Windsong pregnant?"

Vermillion scratched his scalp through his funky lime green hair cut.

Shadowstep swore. "Dear goddess…"

"But it's not just about that. I really, really, really love her. I've never felt like this about anyone before. She's so beautiful and smart, and she treats me soo well. No one has ever been so nice to me. She doesn't even mind that I'm clumsy and… not such a good rogue yet."

Shadowstep grunted. They began walking again. "Don't even bother asking for her hand. She's just going to say no."

Vermillion was crushed. "But… she loves me too."

Shadowstep rolled his eyes. "I am going to do you an incredible favor by being honest with you Vermillion. Are you listening?"

"Yes Sir."

"You are a failure." Shadowstep looked the young Night Elf right in his eye when he said it. He didn't even blink. "You are unattractive, you're awkward, you don't even have a decent set of daggers to _try_ and become a good rogue… and if you have questions about your career, I'll tell you right now, I would never let you into the KRN and nor would my successor. You do sloppy work. A damn demon was watching us this whole time and you didn't even see it. And do you know why? Because you were busy indulging your hormones! I give you the biggest break of your career… I knew you were a little flaky but not so much that you would frivol away such an amazing opportunity. I hope you like selling flint and tinder because that's all the precious metal you'll ever get your hands on for the rest of your life."

Shadowstep turned around to see that Vermillion was no longer beside him. The young man stood forlorn some feet away. His hands trembled.

"Vermillion, you baby! Take the criticism like a man." Shadowstep complained. But that turned out to be the last straw. Vermillion turned and fled.

The others were watching.

"Big V? Where are you going?"

Shadowstep groaned even louder when he heard Windsong's nickname for her boyfriend. "I did _not_ need to know that about him."

"Big V! Wait!" Windsong ran off to catch him.

Feathershine came up to Shadowstep then. "Jebidiath! What did you do?"

Shadowstep shrugged. "I just told him the truth. He's a loser, and he should understand that before he goes and does something stupid like… propose to your Windsong. Can you believe they are that close? It's only been a few weeks."

Priestess Feathershine's hands flew up over her mouth. "Oh Jebidiath… you didn't! Windsong adores Vermillion… she was just telling me that she hoped he would propose, only she didn't think herself worthy." Feathershine turned angry in an instant and slapped Shadowstep's shoulder.

"You idiot!"

"But Deliah!"

Feathershine seethed. Anchorite Orlick inserted himself into the conversation by standing too close. Draenei don't have a sense of just how large they are, and tend to miscalculate personal space with Azerothians every single time.

"Perhaps they did fall in love very fast, but… Jebidiath! It _is_ love! And if you like thinking practically so much, then consider this: Windsong is the best that Vermillion will ever do, and he's smart enough at his age to understand that about himself. He has terrible shortcomings, but he found someone who loves him for all of that awkwardness. And Windsong fawns on him so. She always wanted to date a rogue, but she was afraid that rogues were too devious… he's just the right type of failure she's looking for. It's far more than… the fact that her parents are going to kill her when she comes home pregnant." Feathershine frowned.

"She is pregnant!" Orlick suddenly exclaimed. Both Feathershine and Shadowstep turned annoyed looks on the poor Draenei.

"They are together now, aren't they?" Shadowstep flared at Feathershine. "Let's just finish the tour okay? They'll probably just kiss and make up… whatever, I don't care."

Feathershine turned back to the pink crystal projector machine Orlick had started up and folded her arms across her chest.

"Shadowstep, just because you are bitter about your failure with me does not mean that Vermillion should give up on the love of his life as well."

"Oh, Deliah, don't you dare—"

"What is this Orlick? I think you were just showing Windsong and I something interesting, before we were so rudely interrupted by my bitter boyfriend."

Orlick looked worried, but Shadowstep rolled his eyes and gestured for the Draenei to continue. They'd come to the most important part of the tour, anyway.

Orlick cleared his throat. "Zis projector has a record of ze demons who attacked Felwood." He turned it on and a pink hologram of a succubus flashed into view. It was very lifelike. The demoness even put a hand on a hip and played with her whip like a real one.

Feathershine furrowed her brow and looked at Orlick. "How would the Draenei know that demons attacked Felwood? And why in Azeroth would they have a record of each Burning Legion soldier in that regiment… we weren't allied with them yet back then!"

Orlick panicked. He looked to Shadowstep for an answer. Priestess Feathershine glared at Shadowstep. "Why do I have a feeling that this also somehow your fault!" she sniped.

Shadowstep raised an eyebrow. "I am the Master Rogue, Deliah. In a way, everything that goes wrong with Darnassus is my fault. Just like the Troll temple in Azshara... I can't tell you everything about this. But, let's just say that the Draenei did not want Tyrande to know just how carefully they watch the Burning Legion."

Feathershine thought for a moment and put it together for herself. "They have…" she began to whisper, "Draenei agents working for the Burning Legion? That's horrible!"

Orlick spoke. "Priestess, zey are not friends of ze Burning Legion, and neither are the Draenei people. We honor ze Naaru above all else, and we are willing to go further than zey ever would to get information about ze enemy. We Draenei may not have rogues like you Azerothians, but we are willing to make friends with those of our relatives who wish zey weren't captive but can do nothing about it."

"Eredar Spies?"

"Double agents. We know zat these Eredar still do wrong, but they are willing to give us valuable weapons against their masters. That is why we have such detailed information. Our records here are more than just a compilation based on the long history ze Naaru have with ze Burning Legion." Next, he pleaded with her. "Please do not tell High Priestess Tyrande… we would do anything to destroy the Legion, even make friends with their friends who have grown dispassionate with their evil ways."

Feathershine was about to say that she understood when something occurred to her. "This very projector…" her hands shook just thinking about it, "Is evidence that your knew about the attack on Mount Hyjal and just watched from Draenor… you did nothing to help us! My children are orphans because of you—"

"Now Deliah, that is not the fault of the Draenei. They had enough to deal with on their homeworld, and getting involved would have put them at risk, by stretching their resources too thin. It would have been nearly impossible to—"

"Your crashlanding here was not an accident, but by design!" Feathershine realized. "Oh, how horrible—"

"I call zat fortune. We wanted to come and help you then, but could not. We are doing everything we can to help you now."

Priestess Feathershine had to lean on the machine for support. "Jebidiath… you live every day knowing these kinds of secrets… and you don't tell anyone? How do you even manage it?"

"Will _you_ tell anyone, Deliah?" Shadowstep ignored her question.

Priestess Feathershine looked from Anchorite Orlick to Master Rogue Shadowstep. "You are right, Jebidiath. There are shadows everywhere… there is no right or wrong. Life is both light and dark… in fact it's… gray." She sighed.

Shadowstep smiled, relieved. "Good. I'm glad that you finally see it my way."

Anchorite Orlick was eager to go on with his findings. "Please, hand me ze Burning Legion badge you found in Felwood." Shadowstep took the strange metal object out of his pocket and gave it to the Draenei. Orlick studied it for a few moments and then pressed some buttons on the keypad of the machine. It whirred and a rose colored light turned on. It scanned the badge. The hologram of the succubus flashed to one of an Eredar, and then to something else… the images began to go by so fast, it became clear that the machine was looking for a specific one. It was making a match.

Orlick bowed to Feathershine. "It knows whom you seek. In moments, the machine will show you the very demon who is responsible for murdering the parents of your foster children. I hope you will take zis effort of mine as a good omen, and see zat ze Draenei people have been sneaky over ze years for a very good reason: we will have justice."

Finally, the machine stopped searching. One image remained. A tall monster stood before them on large feet that ended in claws. Two small arms and a long muscular tail helped to give it away, but the large reptilian head completed the effect. The body had evolved somewhat, with the fel energy it no doubt was exposed to. The monster walked more upright than it should have naturally. But it made the devilsaur body look more humanoid, and thus more intelligent than was ever intended by nature. A unique set of armor had been crafted to cover it from head to toe. The very badge the Draenei now held rested prominently over the creature's right shoulder.

"Commander Zar'teaus." The machine droned on in its hollow programmed voice.

Priestess Feathershine had to hold on to Shadowstep to keep from falling.

"Jebidiath… he… that Zar'teaus is the one. I should have known all this time… of course he'd be obsessed with Opalbane! He wants to finish the job!"

"Now Deliah…"

"No! No, I will _not_ calm down. He has got to be stopped! He tried to destroy her life…" Feathershine's eyes went wide with shock. "He tried to sleep with her! You know that's how it's done… how one becomes the High Priestess of an Old God… through heinous and despicable means. That evil monster who murdered her parents wanted to turn Opalbane into a mate, and force her to do his bidding, through the help of the Twilight Cultists! Oh, I can't take it!"

"I know." Shadowstep said. "It's sick."

Priestess Feathershine looked up at Shadowstep. "You know—"

"Yes, I mean I agree with you. It's terrible. Thank you, Anchorite Orlick. I think we found the answer we were looking for."

"Zen… I am no longer in your debt. Thank you again Shadowstep, for everything." He put a comforting hand on Priestess Feathershine's shoulder, then departed.

"Oh Jebidiath, this is terrible, so terrible. I know we have to fix this somehow, but I can't think of anything else. Oh, my poor babies!"

Shadowstep hugged Feathershine close. "We don't need to fix it. Zar'teaus is going to die a long and painful death with no one to worship him in Silithus. It is more than what he deserves, more than we could ever do to him. The only thing that needs to be done now is for us to find those kids and send them away so Alessandre can do his job and take out that last cultist. Then we can go home."

Shadowstep walked with Feathershine, and held her tightly as she wept. He had his doubts over the last few days, but if there was ever a time that he was going to make things permanent between his girlfriend and himself, now was the best moment. She would be like putty in his hands…

"Deliah, let me be your hero."

Feathershine shuddered against him with her sobbing. She looked up. "What do you mean, Jebidiath?"

"There is no more fighting to be had now. You've dedicated your life to your children, and they are both grown up with their own families. Today, we learned the horrible truth, and it should comfort you to know that this is all at an end… but it doesn't. I think you need to have someone look over you for once, to take you away from this madness. Let me be the one to do it."

There was something very odd about the request. Feathershine sensed how selfish it was, but she thought that maybe it was just Shadowstep's way. The only way he'd ever do something nice for someone else. But now, he seemed to be truly concerned about her well-being.

"You're right, Jebidiath. It's been a horrible last few years… I've never had any rest."

"Come away with me."

Feathershine didn't know what to say.

"I am going to retire when we get back to Darnassus. I know that you planned to stay on longer, but why not retire a bit early with me? We can end our careers together and… ride off into the sunset." He smiled and pressed his cheek against her forehead.

"I don't know…"

"In fact… I'll do you one better." Shadowstep hadn't wanted to push it this far yet because it was risky, but he sensed that he needed to sweeten the deal. He let go of Feathershine and got down on one knee.

"I'm lacking a lot of things for this… flowers, and maybe some romantic minstrels for one… but I do think that my heart is in the right place, this time. Deliah Feathershine, will you marry me?"

Priestess Feathershine tried to dry her tears, but burst into another round of crying. "Oh, Jebidiath, I shouldn't—"

"We should. I love you more than anyone else in this world. You know that. I am the only on who knows what you need, and I can give it to you. We've already wasted so much of our lives…" Shadowstep played into her fears of aging.

"Yes." Feathershine cried. Shadowstep smiled instantly. He'd not shown such joy in a very long time. He got up and hugged his girlfriend.

"Good. Then, let's not wait. Wear this, and come with me." He pulled on her arm.

"Where are we going, Jebidiath?" Feathershine worried. "And is this… the very same necklace you gave me seventy years ago? You brought it with you on our journey?"

Shadowstep honestly forgot about that little detail. "I… always carry it." He lied. "Come on, I don't want another second to pass without you as my wife. Let's find a priest."

_Later that evening…_

Windsong sat in the Exodar inn kissing Vermillion. They'd made up, but he was still sulking.

The young priestess held her boyfriend's hand, and frowned. She didn't know what else to do.

"I love you." She told him.

Vermillion looked even more dejected. "I love you too. But we can't be together. Shadowstep said so."

"Don't listen to him! I don't like him anyway."

"You don't?"

"No. What, do you like him? He's so very disagreeable."

Vermillion thought about this. "I don't like him at all, I guess. I just admire him." Vermillion straightened in his chair. "In fact, I don't admire him… when I close my eyes," and he did, because it helped, "all I feel is fear. Raw fear! You know what! I hate Master Rogue Shadowstep!" then he yelped and covered his mouth.

Windsong giggled. "Hate is a very strong word… but I believe you. In that case, why do you care what he thinks? Let's just get married." She smiled.

Vermillion hugged her. "Really?"

"Yes! Let's go do it now, before they find out!" she got up and pulled on his arm. Vermillion went along with her laughing.

They ran all over the Exodar looking for a priest, but it was very late and most people had gone to bed. Then they got lost and really feared that they wouldn't find one.

"Excuse me, miss?" Vermillion politely stopped a Draenei woman dressed in elaborate mail armor and a wolf's head helmet. Her outfit looked strange to Vermillion and Windsong, but the Draenei were new to this world. Who were they to judge another people's customs? Evenso, the Draenei woman had a majestic air about her. Even though many vendors were hurriedly closing up shop for the night, she seemed calm and poised. The woman pushed her wolf helmet further up from her eyes to see Vermillion better.

"Yes, young Night Elf?"

"I know it's really late, and we don't want to be a bother but…" he blushed. "We really need to get married right away. Do you know if there are any priests about?"

The woman frowned. "I am sorry young man, but zey are all gone. Besides, it is not in our custom to marry you?" her Common was very good for a Draenei.

Windsong looked sad. "Oh… because we are a different race? Night Elf weddings are like that actually, if it's not done by a Priestess of Elune, then it's not legitimate." Then, she started to sound desperate. "But please… do you have any relatives who are priests? Or friends? I don't think I can go another moment not being his wife. It feels like there are so many people against us, and I just want him to feel better… and I want to know that he will always be there for me, under Darnassian law or not. I'll give you anything!" she begged.

The woman got the long staff she carried across her back and took it in hand. She pushed her wolf helmet back down over her eyes.

"I am sorry but you misunderstood my words… in my culture priests do not marry people." Then she smiled. "Shaman do." She bowed before them. "And I am a shaman. My name is Zeersheba. I am pleased to meet you."

Zeersheba began to cast totems before herself. One blazed with fire, another was green like new spring growth, a third bubbled forth pure water, and the last whispered like a gentle wind. Zeersheba stood in the middle of all the mystical totems and held her staff out. She pushed it between them, and the lovers were forced to break hands.

"By the power of all the elements!" Zeersheba called out in a loud voice. Draenei around them knew the traditional words. They stopped what they were doing and came over. They formed a circle around the shaman. "These two love each other with the purest love, like a force of nature itself! I would have asked them to prove it to me, but their selfless show of affection has come to me unbidden. It begs to be acknowledged under the Draenei tradition. The two of them precede the timing of life, their youthful wisdom drives me, and their union is already very clear to me, like a prophecy revealed to our hallowed Velen."

The Draenei assembled began to whisper in awe.

Priestess Feathershine and Shadowstep had been looking for a priest too. Shadowstep heard that someone was getting married and he rushed Feathershine over to the crowd. "We'll be next, don't worry." He dragged Feathershine over.

"Are you sure that this can't wait until we get to Darnassus? It would be nice if Onyxbane and Opalbane could—"

"No! We have to do this now!" Shadowstep growled at her. He pushed through the people to get to the front.

Zeersheba summoned a powerful spell and tossed her head back. Then she slammed the staff into the ground. It made a powerful cracking noise, like thunder. And then real lightning exploded at her feet. The onlookers gasped, and applauded.

The shaman's bright eyes flared. "I have spoken with the spirits. They find you worthy. It is done!" She walked over and put Vermillion's hand back together with Windsong's. Everyone started to cheer.

Vermillion looked at Windsong, overjoyed. They hugged and started to dance around.

"Windsong!" Feathershine shouted.

The two young Night Elves turned around. "Uh oh…"

"Is this how you are going to get married? Not even with a priestess? What's wrong with you! You get yourself pregnant and get married in this barbaric way... like a common Orc? This is disgusting!" she admonished.

"But priests don't marry Draenei in their culture. Shaman do it." Vermillion defended their decision. "Shaman aren't just for the Horde anymore you know."

Shadowstep swore. "Deliah, it's doesn't really matter does it? If it's good enough for those whelps, than it's good enough for us too."

Priestess Feathershine was complaining, but Shadowstep was in full Master Rogue mode now. The end of Mission Implausible was so close, he could taste it…

"Please, marry us next." He wrapped an arm firmly around Feathershine's waist so that she could not get away. The shaman Zeersheba turned her shining eyes on the older couple. Vermillion and Windsong stepped back into the crowd.

Zeersheba bared her teeth at Shadowstep. "For shame!" she shouted, and pointed a finger at him.

Shadowstep looked alarmed.

"You come to me, a Far Seer, with the greatest of disrespect in your heart. You have dishonored this woman's family, and so you have dishonored her ancestors. Their spirits speak to me, and the spirits of those orphans she so loves also speak to me…" Zeersheba dropped her staff and pressed both hands to the side of her wolf helmet. She staggered around in a circle, as if she was having powerful and painful visions. "Ze wind of a storm comes to me… and man named Captain Murtough… you paid him to arrest the one named after ze white ancestor… ze one who died before Zar'teaus so angry that her daughter ingested that passion!" Zeersheba screamed, and the crowd of reverent Draenei gasped. "And ze son named after the Dark One… you used his heart against him, told the one named for a flower… Wisteria? … to betray him, and turn ze Opal one over to you. And zere is a rogue… with many names and faces, with a mind of a murderer zat is not even his own… you, ze one who walks in shadows went to him and asked him to put the Opal one in danger, so that ze Shining Feather would cling to you!"

Feathershine pushed out of Shadowstep's arms. She was beginning to understand.

Zeersheba fell to her knees. "And ze final betrayal is the most horrible!" she cried and twisted with the vision, "In all those other times, before, love was able to prevail! A sister chose to love her brother. A man embraced ze woman named for a flower who would become the mother of his child… and the madman, ze assassin… he fell in love and saved the angry Opal woman. But this time, zey will have no help! The Legion is coming for them now."

Zeersheeba moaned in agony and tore her helmet off. It clattered loudly on the slick white tile ground. "Zar'teaus is free! Ze Raptor God has come to back to this life, to reincarnate, and no one can stop him now, because of your evil. And the tragedy is," Zeersheba began to pant. She leaned over and some Draenei from the crowd bent to help her. "You knew… you knew all along zat Zar'teaus wanted to rape the Shining Feather's daughter. And you did nothing..." her voice began to fade, "... and now he comes to torture ze new baby, the last generation..."

Then, Zeersheba the shaman collapsed.

Feathershine stood in the abyss of frightened Draenei. They rushed to help the fallen shaman. Even Vermillion and Windsong went to help Zeersheba, but Feathershine was solely focused on Jebidiath Shadowstep.

"You lied to me." She said.

Shadowstep begged her to let him explain.

"No… no, there are no explanations to give. You ruined my career… and the children that I loved. You put them in danger, time and again to sate your… lust, your obsession over me." Shadowstep grabbed hold of Feathershine, but she slapped his face. "I trusted you! I trusted you with all my secrets!" she backed away, shaking her head. "And the worst part is… you knew how I suffered, how my heart was breaking for not being able to help them. But you did everything in your power to destroy my relationship with my children. You took away every opportunity that I had to be a mother to Onyxbane and Opalbane, by forcing them to turn against me. You are the cause… everything is your fault."

Feathershine began to walk away.

"Deliah! Don't you turn your back on me!" he shouted at her. Feathershine stopped, and Shadowstep knew that he had only one chance, one last chance to make it better. There was only one thing to say now. He narrowed his eyes at the woman he loved. "If you want this thing settled properly, you had better not run far. Alessandre is meeting us at Auberdine in two weeks. If you can't stand me, then fine, run away, but you have to come back by then, so we can… so we can save your children, and your career."

Feathershine shook her head. "Oh… oh, I hate you." She really began to cry. "Even now, when you could have apologized, you are still trying to manipulate me." Then the Priestess of Elune rushed off.

Vermillion walked over to Shadowstep, holding his new wife's hand. Their success was painful to watch, and Shaowstep sneered at them.

"We are going on our honeymoon." Vermillion said in his most confident voice. "I am taking my wife to someplace happy where we can be together away from you and your girlfriend judging us. I am not going to run around and do your bidding any more Master Rogue Shadowstep."

"You failed your mission then." Shadowstep spat back at him. He didn't know what else to do.

_He is proud to have failed you. Any man who follows in your footsteps truly walks in the darkness, Shadowstep. _Windsong told him in his mind, and it overpowered Shadowstep's angry thoughts.

"Goodbye. Come on, Windsong." Vermillion kissed his wife's cheek and wrapped his arm around her. Shadowstep hated how much the two of them reminded him of he and Feathershine, leaving the Vault of Lights only a few moments ago… and coming back from the woods after their first Springtime about seventy years earlier.

He stood in that very spot until it got very dark in the Exodar. No one came and asked the Master Rogue if he was alright. Shadowstep felt cold. Then, hours later, the moon rose.

That was when all the anger finally left him. Shadowstep covered his face, and began to cry at last.

"Oh, my poor Deliah. What have I done?"


	13. Nothin says family like a death threat

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Fourteen: Nothin' says family like a death threat  
**

Shadowstep was so terrified that Priestess Feathershine would not come back, he got off his Striped Nightsaber and stealthed in the road. He couldn't help it. His instincts kicked in, his mind felt feral. If he was invisible, then he couldn't scare her away then could he? And then he could see her coming and watch her to make sure that she didn't change her mind… being the Master Rogue was so much a part of Shadowstep now that it felt like it was in his blood. It was hard to resist his manipulative ways. They felt comfortable because they never failed him before… until two weeks ago when Feathershine learned about the Mission Implausible and said she hated him.

Eventually, Feathershine's spotted Nightsaber approached Auberdine along the Darkshore road. Her face was solemn. Shadowstep was surprised to see her coming from the North, and not from Ashenvale… he would have bet gold that she would come from Ashenvale. It seemed that the priestess knew him too well, and intended to fool him.

It frightened Shadowstep that she nearly _had_ fooled him. If she wanted to, Feathershine could disappear forever and he would not be able to find her, just like that.

Shadowstep realized that he would have to decloak at some point if Feathershine was going to see him and actually meet him. The Master Rogue put a quavering hand on the pommel of his golden Grand Marshall's blade to steady it. Then, he pretended to walk casually up to Feathershine where she waited by the inn.

"I'm glad to see you made it." he said.

Priestess Feathershine just stared at him. She had dark rings around her eyes. Shadowstep ached to kiss her face and tell her how horrible he felt, to love all her anguish away.

"I am not telling you where I've been for the last two weeks."

"I didn't ask you that—"

"Yet? Is that what you were going to say? I know you too well, even without a Mind Vision spell. I disappeared once and I am going to do it again, when this is done. If you find me… don't you dare find me or I will think that my safety is at risk. And I will have to fight you."

Shadowstep held back the compulsion to laugh at her. A Priestess of Elune, fight the Master Rogue? But then, it occurred to Shadowstep that he'd been so focused on getting Feathershine to love him all these years, he had no idea what she was really capable of. Perhaps she really could attack him and win.

"Where is Alessandre?" Feathershine asked.

"According to his letter, he should be here waiting in the inn by now. You know… for your sake, you'd better not tell him or anyone else what happened between us. We might not ever get this thing settled if we get into dirty details."

Priestess Feathershine shook her head in disbelief. "Still watching out for your own hide I see. And, yet again, you are right. If I say anything, we will both get into trouble with Tyrande. Me for disobeying her curfew in Silithus on top of everything else over the years, and you for manipulating international policy for a woman." She sighed. "Let's both go and see if Alessandre has arrived."

Feathershine stabled her mount and walked ahead of him into the Auberdine inn. She stayed more than an arm's length away from Shadowstep the entire time.

It should not have surprised Feathershine to see Alessandre relaxing at a table in a dark corner, groping his wife. Seeing those two newlyweds so in love caused the pang of disappointment over Shadowstep to spring anew in her heart.

"Hello dears." Feathershine tried to smile. Alessandre nearly fell out of his chair. It seemed he remembered that he was in public. The rose flush in Opalbane's pale face seemed to suggest that she suffered from the same kind of lover's amnesia.

"Mom!" Alessandre smiled up at Feathershine and kissed her on the cheek in greeting. Shadowstep clearly wanted to say something about that, but didn't.

"Hi Feathershine." Opalbane gave her a hug too. It hurt the woman that her own foster daughter would not call her mother. Feathershine flashed Shadowstep an angry look. Now she knew whose fault that was.

"Why is she here?" Shadowstep griped.

Alessandre rolled his eyes, annoyed. "Look you, we had this conversation before. Opalbane is my wife, and a real person not an 'orphan whelp' as you like to put it. You are going to speak to her directly if you have a question." He stood up and offered Feathershine his chair while he went to get two more to go around the table.

Opalbane narrowed her eyes at Shadowstep. "I didn't like the letter you sent my husband. We were having a nice vacation until you called him off on assignment, and to kill another Twilight Cultist of all things. Did you really think I was going to let you just 'borrow' him and have nothing more to do with it? No, I'm here to help. I have a bone to pick with those cultists too you know."

In fact, Opalbane had been a Twilight Cultist up until four months ago when Alessandre married her and saved her from their clutches.

"Onyxbane is here too." Alessandre boasted to Shadowstep.

"Oh, you young people are infuriating! You stick so close together, and wherever you go, there is some drama following in your wake. Alessandre, this is the very reason why I wanted you to come alone!"

Feathershine was looking forlorn at the round wooden table between them.

"Mom, are you alright?" Alessandre asked his mother-in-law. He seemed to enjoy the prospect of having new family the way a kid adored making play mates in the school yard.

"Oh I'm fine." She attempted to change the subject. "Wisthera isn't with you, is she? I would think she had her baby by now… I didn't miss that, did I?"

Alessandre smiled at Opalbane, and she nudged her husband to be quiet. She said, "We left Wisthera with her parents in Darkshire."

"That woman has parents?" Feathershine mused. "I suppose everyone has got some, haven't they? Even con artists." Feathershine wasn't so happy to find out Wisthera was having her son's child, and out of wedlock no less, but babies are wonderful gifts. It wasn't too hard for a Priestess of Elune to warm up to a true blessing.

"Her mom and dad are so weird, Feathershine." Alessandre grinned. "They were chugging potions the whole time Onyxbane said goodbye to Wisthera. Then, she climbed into their donkey-cart—"

"Donkey cart?" Feathershine blinked.

"Oh yes." Alessandre started laughing, "And went away singing songs from the Second War, you know the kind… about peace and love and peacebloom and all that."

Feathershine finally started to laugh again. Shadowstep smiled a little too. "The Humans call those sorts of people hippies… I hear they begged that they not kill the Orcs and keep them alive in internment camps, and went around hugging trees and all. I didn't think there were too many people like that left, from the stories I heard."

"Oh, there's a whole tribe of them living out in Darkshire. Wisthera's parents live in some kind of crazy commune where they grow ghost mushrooms in caves."

"Oh my." Feathershine giggled. She saw that Shadowstep was enjoying the story too, and she started to feel dejected again. She hated to share her family with him, knowing what he did.

Opalbane did not seem as amused by Alessandre making fun of Wisthera's parents. "Alchemy is a very respectable profession. The ironic thing is, whatever you think of them, those two are making lots of money selling ghost mushrooms. And then a whole community of mushroom farmers… You all stopped listening to me just now, didn't you?"

Shadowstep grinned. "It makes sense that Wisthera grew up so flamboyantly then. No wonder she craved fame and fortune like water in the desert, and then went after it by any means necessary."

This was normally when Feathershine helped along his joke. She stared blankly at the wall.

Shadowstep got up from the table. "Well, if you and your brother are going to help us with this… which I still think is a very bad idea, we have a lot to discuss, in private. Let's get a room upstairs and get the debriefing done."

Alessandre and Opalbane listened carefully to Shadowstep's plan. It was really very simple. Shadowstep and Feathershine would go back into the Ashenvale woods and pretend to continue their journey, while Alessandre hunted for the cultist and his succubus minion. Once he flushed them out, they would all attack.

"But it has to wait for tomorrow." Alessandre warned. "I am not fully rested… I don't want to work when I'm still on my sea legs."

Shadowstep looked from Alessandre to his wife. Then he baldly announced, "You know, most soldiers are informed not to have sex before a battle, because it keeps their heads clear… you are about to do the opposite. May I recommend that we get this done as soon as possible—"

"Leave them alone, Jebidiath." Feathershine coldly interrupted him. "You have absolutely no idea what you are talking about."

"Alright, what's wrong?" Opalbane finally asked.

Both Feathershine and Shadowstep feigned ignorance. Opalbane wouldn't hear of it. "Something has gone very wrong between you two… the last letter I got from Feathershine said you were on a marathon Wreathe Day? I thought you all were finally getting along after all these years?"

Shadowstep couldn't sit still. "Excuse me. I think I am going to go look for your knucklehead brother… he missed this entire meeting." His voice was shaky.

When he was gone, Opalbane leaned across the table and looked her foster mother in the eye. "What in the world happened? You sounded so happy when you last wrote?"

Feathershine just smiled weakly and began asking her foster daughter all kinds of questions about Willypearl's wedding. Opalbane's answers were incredibly amusing, especially the part where Wisthera interrupted the wedding at a choice moment.

"And… your brother did not jump up there and declare his love for Willypearl? Are you certain?"

Opalbane rolled her eyes. "Feathershine… Onyxbane is committed to Wisthera. He even said that she was more important to him than his Arcanite Reaper."

They all had a good laugh at that. "He's grown up." Feathershine smiled proudly. But then she went right back to dejected again.

_Alright, she's not opening up to me Al… I hate to say it but I think you know what to do. I am going to go see if I can't read Shadowstep's mind. _Opalbane used her Mind Vision spell to tell her husband.

"I'm going to find Onyxbane myself. Shadowstep is taking too long." Opalbane got up from the table in their rented meeting room and slipped through the door.

The gorgeous Alessandre reached across the table and took Feathershine's hand. "I owe you my life, do you know that?"

Priestess Feathershine did not want to look at him.

"When I was on trial for murder, and I didn't want to tell Opalbane what was going on… when you learned that I was still a druid, as well as a rogue… you forgave me. You even encouraged me to go on and pursue the love of my life. Now I am deliriously happy because I followed your advice and told Opalbane the truth."

Feathershine shook her head. "I can't… tell you what happened."

Alessandre drew on all his charm, as far as was appropriate between him and his mother-in-law. He gently took Feathershine's other hand and then held both in his own.

"Mom. I admire you. You raised the woman that I love… and now I have the pleasure of knowing you. You are beautiful in every way… the kindest, most generous Priestess of Elune that I know."

"You can only say that because your wife is not a Priestess of Elune." Feathershine half-joked.

"No, you're right. Opalbane chose to be a shadowpriestess. But you are the amazing woman who first set her on that path. I _care_ about what happens to you, more than that selfish boyfriend of yours." Then Alessandre chuckled. "Well, I'm sure that came out sounding wrong. But, you know what I mean." Knowing Alessandre, he'd slipped up on purpose, to hit a little note with the woman.

Feathershine completely broke down in front of him.

"Oh Alessandre!" she cried. Tears stained the sides of her face. "I didn't want to do this in front of Opalbane. She is going to hate me for what I've done."

"Why would she ever hate you?" Alessandre thought about statement. Well, Opalbane had good reasons for hating her foster mother in the past… he hoped Feathershine wouldn't challenge him. They'd just end up in an argument he couldn't win.

"Because…" Feathershine sobbed, "I've been sleeping with the man who ruined her life."

Alessandre got quiet. He didn't understand, but was an expert at getting information. He would let Feathershine feel the awkward silence and then tell on herself.

"He knew about the Archmage's stolen ring from the very beginning. He knew Opalbane had taken it, and sat on the information for years. Then, at the right moment, he told the authorities of Stormwind. Opalbane was forced to defend herself against them, but fighting the guards turned her into a criminal. Then she fled to Silithus to become a cultist because she felt the world was against her. But I wouldn't go to him for help then. He waited until I decided to act, and sent Wisthera along with us to retrieve her. He told Wisthera to get information about Opalbane, and prevent us from saving her so that the rogues there could continue to observe her… but he just wanted to keep Opalbane in danger so that I would have to turn to him." Feathershine shuddered. "And finally, he used you when he assigned you to be Opalbane's bodyguard in Stormwind. He knew about your lecherous reputation. He wanted you to take advantage of my daughter and break her heart, and he also put pressure on you to put Opalbane into danger yet again, like bait to draw out the Twilight Cultists in Stormwind."

"And then I assassinated them." Alessandre finished for her. "That damned bastard…"

Feathershine shook her head. "I'm not done, Alessandre. I've had a lot of time to think through all these connections. It gets worse." She swallowed. "We just found out that the Old God Zar'teaus who corrupted Opalbane's heart and wanted to keep her as a High Priestess in Silithus is also a Demon commander working for the Burning Legion… or at least he was about twenty years ago."

Alessandre stood up immediately. "The same Zar'teaus who sought to seduce her into evil… is the one who killed her parents?"

Feathershine nodded. "And Shadowstep knew! He knew all along, and he didn't tell me!"

Alessandre looked like he wanted to sprint out of the room and kill someone, which is pretty accurate since he's an assassin by trade. Alessandre kept his feral rage in check. He snarled at the situation, it sounded a bit like a bear's growl, but he sat back down.

"How did you find out about all of this? And does Shadowstep know what you do?" he asked carefully.

"A Draenei shaman told us. I didn't believe in shaman, I thought they were all superstitious hacks until the shaman Farseer in the Exodar had a vision about Shadowstep. Everything she said… made absolute sense. And I was involved with this… this creep who would drive a wedge between me and my children, all to marry me again. And Shadowstep nearly did."

They sat in silence for a long time.

Finally, Alessandre spoke. His black leather armor creaked as he leaned across the table.

"Want me to go beat him up for you?"

Feathershine started to laugh. But that died down quickly. He was serious.

"Or, I can knock him off. Your choice. I'm not afraid of him, you know, not like the other rogues. And he's scared of me. I'll do it quick, make it look like one of his enemies did it. Hell, I _want_ to kill him now, for putting my wife in danger—"

"Alessandre! You can't be serious!"

Alessandre seethed. "You just say the word, and he's a dead man." He slammed his fist on the wooden table.

In the nearly closed doorway, Shadowstep stealthed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"That old bastard deserves to die for what he's done. I only wish I could do it openly, so everyone would know it was me, doing it for Opalbane, and to end his reign of terror in the KRN."

"Alessandre! Stop it! I love Shadowstep… if you did something like that it would wound me deeply."

Outside, Shadowstep breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't an idiot. In a fight between himself and a thousand year old, insane, feral druid and rogue assassin, Alessandre would win. What was worse, Alessandre really could come after him and make the kill look like someone else's fault. That was how he covered up the mess in Stormwind. It was the sheer grace of Elune that Feathershine's son-in-law wasn't out hunting him now.

"Wait… she just said she loved me." Shadowstep realized. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

"Shadowstep, what are you doing stealthed out in the hallway?" Onyxbane complained. His sister was beside him.

Shadowstep decloaked. "I… got bored? How in Azeroth did you see me?"

Onyxbane the warrior rolled his shoulders underneath blue plate. "I hate rogues… or at least I did until I met Wisthera… and Alessandre. I've become very good at finding them over the years… and you know, that's probably because of my ex-con artist girlfriend Wisthera and that sneaky Alessandre." He smiled. Then, Onyxbane remembered something and he frowned again. "I was late because I had to check my mail… there was way too much in there and Opalbane convinced me to save it for after we get rid of this cultist." He pointed his enormous Arcanite Reaper at Shadowstep. "I'll have you know that I abandoned the mother of my child, and will probably miss out on the birth of my son or daughter because I am furious with you for not settling this cultist thing. I want to see this last Twilight Cultist gotten rid of once and for all. I won't live in a world where my sister isn't safe." He grimaced.

Shadowstep resisted the urge to say something equally intimidating. "That's fair."

Opalbane raised her white eyebrows. Onyxbane put down his axe and did the same.

Inside the room, Feathershine saw the others approaching and begged Alessandre, "Please, do not tell Opalbane about this! I would just die if she knew… I would lose her forever!"

"No, you wouldn't. It's not even your fault; you had no way of knowing."

_PLEASE!! _ _Swear that you won't tell her… you don't understand, Alessandre. It will rip this family apart. _ She begged him in his mind as the others entered the room.

"You still want him don't you?" Alessandre whispered in response. At the last minute, when Opalbane sat back down beside him, Alessandre nodded a hasty Yes.

_Later that evening…_

Opalbane watched Alessandre the whole time he got ready for bed. Finally, he pulled his shirt up over his head and got underneath the covers with her.

"You're hiding something from me." She immediately accused.

Alessandre shrugged. "How would you even know that?"

"Because you always make your mind exceptionally filthy when there is something in there you don't want me to see."

Alessandre laughed. "An old, but good trick. Funny thing it didn't work on you back when we were dating in Stormwind. I've come to the conclusion that you liked all the raunchy things I kept in my mind. That's why you weren't afraid to sneak past that line of defense."

Opalbane narrowed her eyes at her husband. "You are changing the subject on me, Al. Do I need to remind you of our little pact? You wouldn't dare be violating that, would you?"

Alessandre stopped smiling. He took her hand and patted it gently. "Moonlily, I'm still not happy that you made me swear to help you get revenge on the people who murdered your parents. That was a nasty argument we had a month ago... and I'm still not too happy with the solution."

Opalbane shook her head. "No going back on it now. A promise is a promise. When I was a little girl, after my parents died, I changed my name to Opalbane, to avenge my mother, and I made Onyxbane do the same thing for our father. I thought you knew that?"

Alessandre scratched his head. "I know… I just don't think that all this revenge is healthy for you. I really think that you should let it go. You have a loving husband, a best friend who is arguably, the most popular Human woman in the Alliance, you're going to be an auntie soon, and you have a great family." He almost smiled, despite the grim conversation they were having. "And… maybe there's even a baby on the way for us. Do you really want to ruin that?"

"Do we have to have this argument again, Alessandre!" Opalbane flared. "My parents died for no reason. I saw it done… I can never forget that savagery. Blood will be shed for blood!"

Alessandre pulled his wife into his arms and held her close. When faced with that tenderness, the once angry cultist began to cry. "Shh… it's alright. Everything is going to be fine." He kissed her forehead. "I agree with you that justice should be served. Like I promised before, I will do everything in my power to help you. I love you."

"Well, sharing your guild leader's letter with me was a good start." Opalbane calmed herself. "I know that you want him to pick you as the next Master Rogue. You could have completely ruined your chances by going against his orders and bringing my brother and I along."

Alessandre rubbed his wife's bare shoulder. "Actually, your mother did tell me something important, but I promised her… I can't tell you what it is."

"But—"

"If you love me, and you trust me to handle things well, then you will let me have this secret, Moonlily."

Opalbane didn't like it, but she agreed.

"And, there's one more thing you need to know, but it has to wait till morning. Will you let me save it until then?"

Opalbane was really curious now. "Why the morning?"

Alessandre grinned wickedly. "Because, there is another promise I want to honor." He kissed his wife tenderly. A delighted gasp escaped Opalbane's throat. "I am going to put you and our family before everything else, even Shadowstep and this mission."

Opalbane sighed happily. "Yes, I remember you saying that on the boat. Are you… so sure that you want us to have a baby now, in the middle of all this craziness?"

Alessandre narrowed predatory eyes at her. "When I realized that I loved you, I couldn't wait to marry you. Now I want to have a child with you. Do you really think I'm going to put it off to suit that selfish manipulative bastard?"

"Oh Al… you've changed so very much since we first met. You're actually putting us before rogue business?"

Alessandre laughed as he began to undress his wife. "I am beginning to sound like Onyxbane, aren't I?"

"A little." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Maybe your obsession is less tangible, but the sacrifice is duly appreciated. Oh Al… I adore you." She hugged him.

"You are going to like me even more after this." He grinned. Opalbane smiled at what he was doing, but then lost control. Her shadowform flared up at full force, and burned both the volatile lovers.

Next door, Onyxbane scowled that he was sharing a wall with them. "That kid is gonna' come out a half ex-cultist, shadowpriest, feral druid, rogue, and assassin monster." He said to comfort himself, now that he was alone without his girlfriend. Onyxbane drew the covers up over his head.

Speaking of babies… he wondered why Wisthera hadn't written yet?

_That same night, in Feathershine's room..._

Priestess Feathershine couldn't sleep, she was so distraught about everything. And, there was a knock on the door an hour ago, and she was sure the person had not gone away.

"Jebidiath, I know that it's you. Do I have to call one of my very capable and angry male relatives to come and throw you out of the inn?"

Shadowstep could be heard swearing outside her door. He knew she was right about Onyxbane and Alessandre. Especially Alessandre. Everyone in her family hated him, even before the revelation in the Exodar. Now he understood that he brought a lot of that bad blood on himself.

"Deliah, please... I'm so worried about you. Won't you please let me in, so that we can talk?"

"Talking is safe, isn't it? And do you know what's safer? Speaking to you through the door. You have one minute, starting now."

Shadowstep sighed. And where had she learned to be so cutthroat? From him of course... "Deliah, I'm sorry. It's just that I love you so much, I couldn't help myself. We have fun together, we laugh, we're romantic... I just couldn't understand why you refused to marry during all those years? I got desperate, maybe I went mad... I feel terrible--"

"Your time is up. Goodnight."

Shadowstep became angry. "Woman! You are infuriating! You know that I am the best thing that's ever happened to you, only you're too self-righteous with your lofty morals to realize it. And you can't blame me for all the dysfunction you have with your children. A lot of these things were probably going to happen on their own, anyway. If I recall, Priest Benactus turned out to be a Twilight Cultist. He had been preying on Opalbane for years, and..."

"And I killed him for it."

Cringing, Shadowstep turned to the ominous voice. Alessandre stood in the hallway, with arms folded tightly across his bare chest. His pants were hastily drawn on. It was obvious that he had been interrupted in the middle of something.

"Old man, you have no idea how unhappy I am to be standing here right now, threatening you. But I'm doing it because I made a promise to my wife's mother. And she sent me a very disruptive Mind Vision." He made a show of cracking his knuckles. "Now, weren't you leaving?"

Shadowstep really wanted to punch Alessandre in the face. Maybe he wouldn't survive it, but wouldn't it be worth a try? He sighed, and turned to go.

"Jebidiath, wait." Feathershine's muffled voice came through the door. She sounded like she was crying. "Do you want to know where I was these last two weeks?"

"Yes! Of course, I was worried about you."

"I was with Vermillion and Windsong in Ashenvale... I came back the long way. The two of them felt so bad for me, I convinced them to let me come along. While I was with them, I apologized for the way I treated them, both before and after their wedding." she paused, "And do you know what they said in response? That they knew they were being a bit silly, for falling in love so fast, and hurrying a marriage and baby along... but that we inspired them. They took one look at us and wanted to grow up immediately, start a decades-old relationship where you fight and make up over and over again, like falling in love every day. I think that, deep down, both Vermillion and Windsong still admire both of us."

Shadowstep wasn't sure how to respond. "I guess that's... nice. They did all that, because of us?"

"But where's my baby, you idiot? Where's the proper ring on my finger, a home for us, or a honeymoon? All I have from you are lies and tricks. And to make things worse, even if you wanted to, I don't think you could ever fit into my family."

Shadowstep reached out and touched fingertips to Feathershine's door. Alessandre narrowed his eyes at him. "Is that what you want? For me to make it up to your family?"

"That's just the tip of the iceberg... and don't dare think I'm going to give you a set of instructions. A part of me is so hurt, I don't even know what all the wounds are, or how to begin healing them."

"I swear, on my honor as the Master Rogue, that I am going to make it up to you, Feathershine." Shadowstep vowed. The Mission Implausible was not over. It was just beginning.

"Well, that doesn't count for very much." Alessandre shrugged.

Shadowstep pointed a finger in the other rogue's face. "You be quiet, or your angry shadowpriestess wife is going to be missing her lover all night long while I make you babysit me."

"You cold-hearted, manipulative bastard--"

"That's my name, Alessandre. Don't wear it out." Shadowstep transformed everyone's favorite insult for him into a mark of pride. He walked down the hallway, and back to his own room. His polished black boots clicked smartly the whole way.


	14. Guess who's back? And a Troll!

**The Romancer Shadowstep **

**Episode Fifteen: Guess who's back? And a Troll!**

Svetlana the blue succubus walked along the dark beach. Her tiny hooves made odd tracks in the gray sand. Her master crouched before sparking green fel fire. He was silent but the ocean roared and brooded the way he must have been doing in his mind. The Blood Elf opened his palms to the flames, but he was not warming himself. It was simply a less conspicuous way of feeding his addiction.

"The family is all assembled. Shall we go kill them now?" Svetlana rocked back and forth, impatient.

Long blonde eyebrows twitched anxiously on hearing the news. "This is indeed lovely…" he hesitated. "But we can't yet, not in town. And… there is another matter I want to see to first. Do you remember where the assassin is, and is he sleeping?"

Svetlana grinned. "The one you call sexy mana? Oh, he's fast asleep. What do you have in mind, my Master?"

"We already had this conversation." he pouted. The Legion Ranger pushed back his red hood, and folded his arms up into long embroidered sleeves. "We are so _not_ fighting over him."

"But you mean to seduce him. I can tell… A succubus is better at it though."

"Is not! And I'm going to show you! I'm going to show everyone, and then we'll draw them outside the city and put an end to this madness." The ranger couldn't help whistling after every 's' he made. It was hard to make that sound when a certain rogue assassin punched out your two front teeth four months earlier. In fact, it still hurt.

The man swore to himself as he kicked clumps of sand onto the fel fire and it fizzled out.

"And then after… we _are_ going to get Zar'teaus back into custody, right? Since that _is_ the point of our entire excursion to Azeroth?" Svetlana raised an eyebrow.

"I'm getting Alessandre and his little friends back for what they did to me first!" The Legion Ranger sounded as petulant as a whiny two year old. Svetlana trotted happily behind him as they made their way towards the lights of Auberdine.

_Later in Auberdine…_

Alessandre's yellow eyes flashed open in the dark bedroom. He turned toward a creaking at his door, but a sound far more enticing reached his long ears, claimed his attention back. A soft whisper spoke in his mind…

_Come to the window…_

The floorboards creaked as the gorgeous naked male Elf did as he was told. His wife slept on, unaware. A satisfied smile from the previous evening still on her face.

_Very good… you are such a very good boy, aren't you sexy mana? Do you remember back in Stormwind when I asked you to run away with me, and you turned me down?_

"Opalbane?" Alessandre asked aloud in the darkness. But he did not see her exactly. His mind was not his own.

The voice swore loudly in Alessandre's head. _Why is it always Opalbane, Opalbane, Opalbane!_ It mocked. _Even now you are with others who need you… and I can tell that you are supposed to be keeping watch but you're so distracted with her that you missed Shadowstep sneaking down the hallway just now. You bloody beautiful idiot!_

Alessandre stood at the open window, unable to contemplate the words the person controlling his mind spoke. An ocean breeze came and played with his long navy hair.

_But I can see him…I can see everything. You all will die today, every last one of you will fall at my hand, at the hand of the Burning Legion. Your petty lives, how each of you elves is obsessed with either a rogue or a priestess—what is wrong with Night Elves, fixating so much on those ignorant of true magic—Oh no! Now I've lost my train of thought…_

Alessandre came out of the Mind Control spell briefly, and began to wonder why he was standing in front of the open window. His wife was on the bed behind him… what would make him ever want to leave the bed? But he looked down from the window too late.

When Alessandre saw the obsessed Blood Elf, his latest assassination job, and an obvious member of the Burning Legion, standing a story below his window, and still _alive_… he couldn't panic even if he wanted to. Faltheriel the shadowpriest smiled up at him and seized control of Alessandre's mind again.

_Before I take my revenge on you all, and go arrest Zar'teaus, I want to finish our little meeting in Stormwind. Jump out of the window, my precious. Come to me._

Alessandre didn't blink. He threw one leg over the edge and leaned out.

_WHO ARE YOU AND WHY ARE YOU IN MY HUSBAND'S MIND?_

A story below, Faltheriel fell to his knees and grabbed the sides of his head.

"Whom is it my Master? Shall I seduce the one interrupting you?"

They saw a pale Night Elf priestess with a long white braid wrap both arms around the handsome Night Elf rogue. He fought to jump out of the window, to be with the one who called him.

_Come Alessandre! Get down here right now!_

"I'm trying Faltheriel! She won't let me!"

Svetlana lashed her whip about in the air, and thrust out a hand.

"No! Don't you dare touch my Alessandre!" Faltheriel shouted jealously at the succubus. It broke his concentration, stopped Svetlana's seduce spell, woke up Alessandre, and frightened Master Rogue Shadowstep out of stealth behind the two Burning Legion agents.

"By Elune! Alessandre, you told me you killed this freak!" Shadowstep circled the Legion Ranger Faltheriel and his demoness. Two golden Grand Marshall blades attempted to block an escape back down the narrow beach, into the ocean.

The experienced rogue Alessandre realized that he was falling out of a window, and immediately stealthed. Opalbane was finally able to drag him back inside. Then, he saw Faltheriel on the beach below and he started screaming.

"Dear goddess! You're supposed to be dead!"

"You're supposed to be in _my_ bedroll by now, receiving your punishment!" there was a seductive lilt to his voice. Alessandre panicked and grabbed hold of his angry shadowpriestess wife for protection. Shadowstep heard the two of them land on the wooden floor of their room with a loud thud.

Now Shadowstep was alone with the attackers. He wisely vanished, and let Legion Ranger Faltheriel and the demoness Svetlana get away.

Priestess Feathershine came running in her night gown, flanked on either side by angry Sentinels. Shadowstep decloaked and tried to calm her down.

"What is it, Jebidiath? Was the Twilight Cultist here? I heard shouting."

Shadowstep made every effort to downplay the situation. He just barely convinced the Sentinels that it was only he and Alessandre having a loud argument.

Shadowstep took Priestess Feathershine by the arm and walked her back around to the front door of the inn, a few paces behind the annoyed Sentinels.

"What's wrong with you, Deliah, getting the authorities involved? Do I need to remind you that we are trying to settle this quietly, with a skilled assassin?" he whispered.

"So there was something—"

"Yes, and it truly isn't pretty." He lowered his voice and eyed the Sentinels who were watching them. He feigned a sheepish smile and hurried the priestess back upstairs.

"Oh Jebidiath! What are we going to do? Whatever it was almost got to Alessandre, and he's supposed to be our edge."

The Master Rogue resisted the temptation to draw Feathershine into a comforting hug. In this situation, she might take it the wrong way… and maybe deep down he did want to comfort her now, because his gut told him she was most vulnerable at the moment. Shadowstep frowned that his manipulative Master Rogue instinct penetrated so deep into his consciousness.

"Wake the kiddies…" he informed her as professionally as possible. "It's time to go to war."

The Master Rogue, Priestess Feathershine, the shadowpriestess Opalbane, her husband the assassin Alessandre, and his brother-in-law Onyxbane the warrior went discreetly into the forest of Darkshore at dawn. The Sentinels watched them go, but they walked beyond the authorities' jurisdiction on purpose. There was no point in stealthing, or being tricky. They knew whom they were dealing with now, and Faltheriel certainly realized that everyone was on to him. The showdown was imminent.

"Did I really say, 'I'm trying to Faltheriel, but she won't let me?'" Alessandre shivered. His unshakable assassin's confidence was shattered. In fact, he sounded downright traumatized.

"Oh stop complaining about it! I hate you young people. Wherever you go, there's some drama. Would it have been so hard to just settle this one mission on time and in peace? I swear, with every day that passes, another thing goes horribly wrong--"

"Mission? What mission? The last time I checked, there was a lot of lying and cheating involved." Feathershine griped loudly. Shadowstep eyed her and shut his mouth.

"What is he talking about sis?" Onyxbane asked.

"Well, I think that Faltheriel was trying to arrange for my kidnapping back in Stormwind… Alessandre stopped him but not before they had a very awkward confrontation—"

"Don't tell him what you think you know! I didn't tell you exactly what happened for a reason. Can I at least salvage some dignity from being a good husband and sparing my wife certain emasculating details?"

A territorial squirrel chattered at them from above. It almost helped with the awkward silence that followed.

"So, who's tanking, cause I didn't bring a shield. Besides, I'm not specced that way."

"I can tank." Alessandre shrugged.

Onyxbane forgot about the imminent danger they were waiting for and flew off the handle. "You CANNOT tank. You're a rogue, goddammit! If I hear one more rogue talking about how they can do more damage than I can or tank better than me, I swear I'm going to—"

"Alessandre is a druid, dear." Priestess Feathershine informed her foster son.

Onyxbane looked to Shadowstep and Opalbane, but neither of them looked surprised.

"Huh? Why am I always the last one in this family to know things… wait… are you guys pulling my leg?"

Alessandre shrugged and turned himself into a bear. "See?" he said in a voice that was mostly feral groan.

Onyxbane's eyes bulged. "No way… how can you be a rogue _and_ a druid! Sissy, how come you never told me?"

Opalbane sighed. "Well, it was supposed to be a secret… and besides, it's a very long and tragic story."

"Well, you had better catch me up right now! My sister is married to an assassin, _and_ a druid!" he started to panic.

"I'm just Al deep down, Onyx. Your brother-in-law."

Shadowstep intervened, hoping to keep what he saw as useless young people banter from going much further. "We can have an annoying family reunion later. Personally, I think Alessandre should help me do some rogue things during this fight. Onyxbane, you tank. Opalbane, why don't you heal so that Feathershine can—"

Opalbane gasped. "I am _not_ a healer. I am a shadowpriestess."

"So just shift out and—"

"I am _not_ tanking, you guys. I am a fury warrior." Onyxbane spoke over everyone. "And my sister shouldn't have to heal if she doesn't want to. Why not let Feathershine or Alessandre do it?"

"Excuse me!" Alessandre flared. "I may be a feral druid, and an assassin, but I am no healer. I don't have mana to waste on that."

"Honestly, Shadowstep, you shouldn't be telling people what to do…" Feathersine started to argue as well. All their fighting drowned out the sound of the enemy approaching.

"Everyone SHUT THE HELL UP!" Shadowstep lost control of himself. Priestess Feathershine glared at him. "You all are going to do what you are meant to do… and I don't want to hear any complaining, unless you want to _die_."

"Indeed." Faltheriel stepped out of the shadows. They knew he had a succubus pet, but she was most likely stealthed somewhere nearby.

The Blood Elf folded his hands behind his back and lifted his chin expectantly. Both Priestess Feathershine and Opalbane fell back. Alessandre shifted into his bear form and leapt out in front of Onyxbane and his wife. Shadowstep stealthed. The Master Rogue's yelling did the trick in the end.

"I am so sad that I did not get to have my little mana pot today."

"Shut it Faltheriel. We don't need any more of your speeches." Alessandre growled.

"Oh, my sweet little mana pot." Faltheriel clucked his tongue at the assassin and reached out to pet him. Alessandre growled even louder and snapped at the hand offered. Way in the back, Opalbane looked very disturbed.

"Does this mean you don't want to hear what I am doing here? Or why I actually decided to meet your challenge? I could have just run away you know, like I did the last time."

"Fine, let's hear it." Shadowstep said. Faltheriel seemed a little surprised to hear the Master Rogue's voice come from behind. He turned to the sound, uncomfortable.

"Jebidiath, this truly isn't the time…"

"Darnassus has a right to know." Shadowstep argued with Feathershine in stealth. This time it sounded like he was behind Opalbane. He could move alarmingly fast while cloaked.

"I've been following you all for a few months actually… I couldn't find my sweet Alessandre in Ashenvale, so I had to give up and find a more conspicuous relative. Well, you see I flitted from one obsession to another. I was sent here from the Burning Legion headquarters in Outland to retrieve one Commander Zar'teaus for crimes against the Legion army."

"What crimes?" Opalbane asked.

All the Night Elves grew quiet. Everyone knew what she was asking, and how much the answer meant to the vengeful shadowpriestess.

"It's what I already told you, Moonlily, late last night." Alessandre reassured her.

Opalbane's voice trembled with rage. "But I want to hear it… from the horse's mouth. Did the Old God Zar'teaus really kill my parents? Is he the very one?" she balled her hands into fists, and set her smoky black shadowform blazing.

"When he laid waste to your home town, Shady Grove Village, he disobeyed a direct order. And his indulgence in your parents' murder ruined the Legion's plans, outed our intentions for Felwood beforehand. We lost the benefit of a preemptive strike. Perhaps this is not such a horrible offense within the Alliance, but rules for the Burning Legion army and its demons are very strict. Zar'teaus owes us twenty years of torture… but he ran away before we could seize him. Many others have failed to extract him without incident from Azeroth before I came along. Now it's my job." Faltheriel glared at Alessandre. "I nearly succeeded in Stormwind with getting my bait, but you just _had_ to come along and distract me… you and your… sexy tainted druid fel mana."

Alessandre shivered in his bear form.

"But how is Zar'teaus both a demon and an Old God? I thought it wasn't possible to be both?" Priestess Feathershine asked.

"That is exactly how he hid from us so well. Zar'teaus has been losing power over the years, with no one to worship him, faster than most Old Gods. He came to the Legion, and we used some of our demonic magics to preserve him… much like that insidious Lord Illidan." Faltheriel sighed, annoyed. "Anyways, he made a promising soldier and rose quickly through our ranks. When he failed us, he abandoned our support and so stopped dripping with demonic fel energy. He became far more difficult to track. I recently found out that he fully embraced his godhood once again, and was receiving help from Twilight Cultists in Silithus. I went there and joined their cult with the intention of extracting him quietly. The Burning Legion can't afford for the Alliance or anyone else raising an alarm about our activities in Azeroth, and there are so many damn druids in Silithus to boot—"

"Get to the point." Shadowstep snarled. "The more you say, the more confusing and ridiculous this is!" It seemed he was standing in his old place, behind Priestess Feathershine.

"Alessandre kept me from getting Opalbane first, before Zar'teaus did. I failed my mission and was forced to fake my death to escape having a Legion Ranger sent after _me_. But I intend to finish the job. I kept track of Alessandre for as long as I could, but when he became elusive and Opalbane useless to Zar'teaus and the Twilight Cultists, I turned to lurking about Priestess Feathershine." He looked at her. "You are so easy to follow, as I'm sure your boyfriend has told you. You are a very honest person and never hide anything from anyone."

Feathershine shrugged. She wasn't sure if she should thank Faltheriel for the compliment or not.

"But I don't need her anymore. I've found my Alessandre, and I have a good idea of where Zar'teaus is now… I'm not sharing that little secret with you though." He smiled as he watched both Opalbane and Feathershine flinch after trying to read his mind.

"Oh yes… mine is a brain that is exceptionally filthy, and therefore unreadable. Though, don't take that as a rejection. My fantasies are always welcome to you enchanting ladies…"

"I thought you were gay." Alessandre snapped.

Faltheriel smiled wider. "Oh, are we finally jealous? I wasn't afraid to side with Prince Kael'thas and his new demon lord, and when they threw me out I wasn't afraid to work for the Burning Legion. And, more recently, I wasn't afraid to ally myself with the Twilight Cultists, or moonlight as a High Elf in Stormwind City… and I'm able to blend in with the Horde these days, now that my people joined their ranks, arcane magic addiction and all." Faltheriel tossed a long blonde lock of hair over his shoulder. "You see, I am an opportunist… that is what I'm trying to say. I am not afraid to play for both sides." He narrowed his eyes at them. "And now, I'm afraid our little game is up. I have to dispose of you because I'm done gleaning information… in the same way that I left my hired thugs in Stormwind to die at Alessandre's hands, because it needed to be done. None of you can survive to share my secrets. I am getting Zar'teaus, and I am taking him back home to Outland!"

"Never! I am named to avenge my dark father, and Opalbane our mother… We want Zar'teaus. You CANNOT take him now that we know!" Onyxbane shouted then, and charged in. Alessandre used a feral charge to get ahead of his brother-in-law just in time. Opalbane shrieked her own battle cry and thrust forward a hand, to cast a spell.

"Now, Svetlana." Faltheriel grinned wickedly. Onyxbane and Alessandre slashed at him with Arcanite Reaper, shimmering moon-white claws, and teeth… but it did nothing. In fact, Faltheriel seemed to benefit from their exhaustive efforts. His black shadowform erupted in a column of billowing dark magic, and he grew larger with it, like someone who took several elixirs of giant growth.

Opalbane tried to silence him, but the succubus appeared out of nowhere and thrust a hand forward. Opalbane stared at the demon mesmerized. Svetlana spoke to Opalbane in a silken voice. "The dark heart of Legion adores you, shadowpriestess. Why fight me? Why fight your rage? Focus on my eyes… yes, that's it, pretty lady."

Priestess Feathershine looked on in horror as the demoness successfully seduced her own daughter. She readied her Psychic Scream spell…

"Ha!" Faltheriel hopped up on his toes and pointed an oversized finger at her. A black bolt of dark magic leaped through the air over the heads of Alessandre and Onyxbane to strike Priestess Feathershine. She fell.

"No!" Shadowstep broke stealth and took her up in his arms. He cradled her for a moment, then concluded. "She's dead… no…"

"Keep your wits about you, Shadowstep!" Onyxbane thundered in his warrior voice. Shadowstep pulled himself together and raced over to Faltheriel, shouting.

"Tsk. Tsk." Faltheriel clucked his tongue. "Whom should I kill next?" he laughed. He pointed another finger at Onyxbane. "Such is the power of a Legion Ranger, to cheat death and take lives like candy." Onyxbane saw what was coming, and shifted into his defensive stance. Opalbane's brother whipped his axe around with everything he had, trying to cleave through Faltheriel's shadow armor…

A black bolt of magic tore right through his blue plate, and Onyxbane went down screaming.

"Faltheriel, you bastard! No one messes with my family." Alessandre growled and shifted out into his rogue form. He stealthed, but reappeared immediately behind the Blood Elf shadowpriest. Alessandre tried to lock Faltheriel in stun attacks but his kidney shots wouldn't land.

Shadowstep also swung his useless blades about. "Alessandre… this isn't working. We can't kill him."

Faltheriel's green eyes blazed and he thrust a finger at Shadowstep. The Master Rogue looked at Alessandre with his last breath, apologetic, and then vanished.

"You fucking prick!" Alessandre screamed at his disappeared guild leader.

"My, my, what a dirty mouth you have." Faltheriel took a long time turning around to face the last rogue who was behind him. Alessandre ran about, trying to distract Faltheriel from his wife Opalbane, but he figured it out before long.

"Opalbane! It is always her and not me. I am a shadowpriest too! I have a dark heart as well, and an addiction! We are both elves, what's the difference?"

"My answer is the same as before Faltheriel. I _love_ her. You are creepy, and a member of the Burning Legion, for goodness sake!"

Faltheriel pointed a finger at Opalbane, ready to take his revenge on her. "You die last, Alessandre! Svetlana will help me to have you, but then you will die… I loved you Alessandre… you made a terrible mistake when you turned me down…"

"Nooo!" Alessandre was shouting. He went bear and backed up to charge Svetlana, but he'd seen Faltheriel use this spell several times before. He knew that there was no way he could get to Opalbane first.

"Fine! Faltheriel… I'll give you whatever you want, just don't hurt my wife."

Faltheriel raised a golden eyebrow. "Do you mean that? Or… are you just toying with me. Because if you dare betray me again, I'll—"

"I'm as serious as death. I would be lost without Opalbane… and she's already suffered too much in life. Better for her to lose me and live, than to die… for something that is my fault." He shifted back into his rogue form, and got down on his knees at Faltheriel's feet. "I'm begging you… if she dies, I'll be lost… dammit! I'm sure the universe itself will be upset… her death after everything else would be too cruel."

Shadowstep stopped stalking back to the road when he heard Alessandre's speech. He looked at the more courageous man on his knees. It filled Shadowstep's heart with regret.

Faltheriel was moved by it too. "I don't know, Alessandre… you've tricked me before—"

A tense moment passed.

"You don't really know where Zar'teaus is, do you? Or else, you'd be going after him right now. If you spare my wife… we'll help you find him. Then you can take Zar'teaus and do whatever you want."

"Your wife and brother-in-law seemed intent on killing him themselves… aren't you concerned that they will be angry with you?"

Shadowstep's jaw went slack. This was insanity…

"I don't care. Perhaps her bloodlust is even misguided… as long as you let her live, nothing else matters to me." Alessandre told Faltheriel.

Faltheriel's jaw went tense as he thought it over. "An alliance? Yes… yes I think that will do nicely. Svetlana, let her go."

"WHAT?" the demoness objected.

Faltheriel was surprised at her behavior. "Really, Svetlana… I gave you a direct order. Let the woman go. We're all friends here now. After, we can resurrect everyone…"

"No! This isn't fair! I've been with you this entire time, in Silithus, in Stormwind… you never let me kill anyone, or do anything… even when that stupid druid-rogue monster killed you in Stormwind," she pointed at Alessandre with her whip in hand, "I had to stay stealthed and hide. I'm not made for this! I can't take it anymore!" Svetlana turned to Opalbane, and bared her teeth. She raised the black whip over her head.

Alessandre leapt to his feet. From the shadows, Shadowstep cringed. _The fool! He should have vanished too when he had the chance… the Burning Legion can't be trusted. _ He thought.

Svetlana cried out and stopped mid-swing. She fell onto the ground in a crumpled heap. Alessandre and Shadowstep turned to the one who'd done it.

Faltheriel shrank as he walked over the demon's dead body, wiping his hands clean of the act. Finally, he was his diminutive Blood Elf size again. He came up to Alessandre's shoulder. Faltheriel reached a hand out to Opalbane and helped her up from where she sat, dazed.

"You're lucky I love you, Alessandre. I enjoyed Svetlana a great deal. I'm not a warlock, you see… I can't just bring her back." He looked at Opalbane, who was already edging away from him.

"Where are you going, Bloodthistle? Your husband and I made a deal, and I intend to honor it. Now, are you going to help me resurrect your family or not?" Faltheriel walked over to Priestess Feathershine and started conjuring.

"Al… what did you do?" Opalbane whispered as she began to resurrect her brother.

Alessandre shook his head. "What I had to… if you don't forgive me for it, I'll understand."

When Priestess Feathershine was resuscitated, Shadowstep decloaked and pulled her aside. "Don't you touch her again, Faltheriel." The Master Rogue gestured Opalbane over. "Heal your mother, please."

Onyxbane, Opalbane, and Priestess Feathershine begged Alessandre to reveal what had happened, but the handsome rogue only looked at Faltheriel and said nothing.

"He's going to be mine for a night, and none of you laugh." Faltheriel waggled a finger at them. You all will also help me apprehend Zar'teaus. The deal was made in demon's blood… more or less." He casually stepped over Svetlana's dead body. Opalbane looked ready to explode, but Faltheriel's obvious disregard for sentient life made her think twice. She knew from experience that wrath of someone like that could be horrible.

"I'm no monster, really. When you're ready, Alessandre, come to me. But, it had better be before we get Zar'teaus. I'll be cross if you make me wait that long."

Alessandre snarled at the Blood Elf.

"This is madness!" Shadowstep blurt out. "Not only is this entire situation disgusting, but now I, the Master Rogue of Darnassus, am allied with the Burning Legion! This is _not_ what this mission is about. This was not a part of the plan!" He turned on Feathershine. "First, you take along that annoying Windsong, then that whelp Vermillion joins us… and they get married! How dare they insult us like that… and now your family shows up… and finally!" he began laughing like a madman. "We're stuck with this weirdo who is love with Alessandre. I don't even understand half the things that he was talking about! I have no idea what these problems are… they don't make sense! Why do I have to deal with other people's problems! Why won't this horrible journey just end already?!"

"Jebidiath, you should calm down—"

"I will _not_ calm down! What's next?" he shouted at the sky. "Elune, are you truly quite through with me? I can't see how this could possibly get any worse. Why are all these conflicts coming home to roost over my head! WHY?"

Elune did not answer him, but halfway across the world, in Darkshire, she answered someone else's prayer.

"Where's my baby?" Wisthera sobbed. She was in bad health after the surprise delivery and she couldn't even stand on her own. In only a light linen dressing gown, she knelt in the mud. Her mother and father stood behind her, trying to calm their daughter down.

"Why? How could this happen… I've been a bad person, I know, but I just wanted to be a good mother to… Oh, I didn't even get a chance to name him!"

"There, there, dear." Wisthera's mother hugged her daughter's shoulders. "Everything will be alright. Maybe the baby just went for a walk."

"He was just born a day ago!" Wisthera flared. Normally, she was tolerant of her parents' herbs-for-brains way of thinking, but their bad habits finally went too far. They were practically useless in this situation, and it was maddening. She had not a soul to truly help her with them fussing over ghost mushrooms and deathweed all day.

"Ah… sorry Wisthera." Her father shrugged. "We just don't know what to do. Come on, Cora, let's just leave her here. When she's feeling better she'll come back to the house." He guided Wisthera's mother away, both of them stumbling over their own feet as they wandered back to the little shack they lived in.

"You stupid hippies! Try not being high for once! It's your fault someone kidnapped my precious son; your grandson! Oh… my little baby boy." Wisthera bent over in the mud and wailed in agony.

"Please Elune… have mercy." She looked up at the full white moon.

A stranger came out of the dark woods to meet her. It took Wisthera a long time to recognize the crouched saunter, and the tusks…

"Zar'teaus took your baby. I saw him go. Let me help you."

Wisthera looked at the blue Troll, wide-eyed. "No… no!" she started screaming but of course, in that remote hippie village no one came to help her.

"No… you not understand." The Troll struggled with his Common. "I not want to hurt you, mon. I family…" He scratched his white hair. "Don't know how to say it… what be da word?"

"Get away from me, you Horde monster!"

"I be Onyxbane's brotha! Girly, calm down… calm down…" then he began to conjure some strange green magic. When he released the spell, Wisthera closed her eyes but it didn't hurt her. In fact, whatever the shaman just did for her made her feel better than she had during all her weeks of pregnancy, even during her exhausting labor the day before. Wisthera opened her eyes to see a wooden totem bubbling with some kind of water magic. The Troll cast another totem that brought forth pure air. It made the rogue mother feel empowered.

"So, you gonna come with me? I come all dis way to find that Old God… and I find him stealin' a baby! And I know who you are… you be ma brotha's wife. Don't wanna' go back home after what I just saw. Let me help you sista." He extended a hand that had only three fingers to her. Wisthera cringed, but she knew she had to take his help.

"I be Shia'jin. I hear you be named Wisthera?" Wisthera nodded in response. "I am a powerful healer, da best in my guild. I can keep you whole… dat is good because we have to leave right now. Will your parents mind? You must tell dem 'cause I not going into Stranglethorn Vale with the Stormwind Army on my back 'cause everyone say I kidnapped a pretty Night Elf."

Wisthera scratched her head. This was all happening so fast. "My parents aren't even capable of caring… I'll just write a letter to my husband… your brother."

Wisthera wasn't sure if it was the smoke always coming from her parents' home, the haze of having just given birth, or desperation over her abducted baby boy that made her trust the Troll in the end. But one thing she was sure of. When she looked into Shia'jin's eyes, there was certainly a family resemblance. The man she loved was inside this stranger, somewhere.

Wisthera would move heaven and earth to get her son back. And if the Troll was lying he would pay dearly for it… Wisthera was not afraid to lie, cheat, steal, or kill for her husband Onyxbane. Nor for her son.


	15. The Wrath of Jin!

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Fifteen: The Wrath of Jin!  
**

Since Faltheriel could not enter the town of Auberdine they drew straws to see who would stay behind and watch him while everyone else got their things from the inn. Faltheriel gave Alessandre strange looks the whole time they did it and it was really no surprise when the handsome rogue ended up with the shortest straw.

"Shadowstep, you stay and watch Faltheriel." Feathershine announced after Opalbane gave her mother a pleading look.

That left the two male elves standing alone in the woods. Faltheriel kept smiling at the Master Rogue, so Shadowstep wisely stealthed to avoid any potential ogling.

"Really, what's wrong with you people?" Faltheriel griped. "It's not a disease you know. A man loving another man is completely natural. And by the way, you can calm down because I'm not attracted to you."

"If you think I am going to encourage this type of conversation…" Shadowstep's voice came from somewhere in the trees, to the East.

Faltheriel kept smiling, he gave a little satisfied schoolgirl sigh. "Oh, Alessandre. I'm so happy that I didn't kill you. It will be so nice to be with you at last."

Shadowstep's loud groaning reached Faltheriel's ears. It seemed the Master Rogue had wandered even further away from the strange Blood Elf.

It didn't take very long for the other four to get back. Onxybane looked panicked. He rode his striped Nightsaber into the trees and almost bowled Faltheriel over.

"Where is she? Is this your idea of some kind of sick joke? It had better be…" Faltheriel ducked the Arcanite Reaper Onyxbane swiped at his head.

"Excuse me, but I have no idea what you're talking about. Don't dare come here, threatening me!" Faltheriel met the challenge, and began to conjure terrifying shadow magic.

"Faltheriel, have you ever seen an Arcanite Reaper before…"

Faltheriel thought it was a strange question to ask. Especially when Onyxbane was brandishing the terrifying battle axe in his face. Alessandre intervened before his brother-in-law could get too far with his threat.

"Onxybane! Calm down." Alessandre reigned in his gigantic war mount then. Starshatter the silver Nightsaber growled angrily at Faltheriel underneath his ancient green Cenarion armor. "Just take Starshatter and go… he's faster than your mount. We'll have to cut through Horde lands, but at this point, I think getting to Ratchet would be fastest…"

Shadowstep decloaked then. "Wait a minute, who's going into Horde lands? I didn't approve anything like that. This is just supposed to be a reconnaissance mission—"

"Oh! My grandbaby has been kidnapped, Jebidiath!" Feathershine cried. She and Opalbane rode up on their Nightsabers then.

"What the—"

Opalbane was the only one who spoke calmly. But her face was set in stone, a mask to hide the broiling anger inside the ex-Twilight Cultist. "Wisthera wrote my brother a letter, saying that she had the baby early. Her thoughts were scattered, the ink smudged, but it's clear that Zar'teaus found her in Darkshire and took the baby soon after he was born. A Troll, posing as Onyxbane's brother offered to help, but clearly she was distraught because of the loss and would have taken help from anyone at that point."

"She said something about having to seduce this Troll in Stranglethorn Vale!" Onyxbane panicked. "And you don't understand my girlfriend… she's volatile. She would do it. When we had our Wreathe Day back in Stormwind, she swore to me that she would 'lie, cheat, steal, and kill' to have me… I believed her then, and I believe her now!"

Faltheriel frowned but he didn't exactly look surprised by the news.

"You know something that we don't Blood Elf!" Shadowstep threatened him. "Tell us now, or—"

"Or what? You'll kill me? Because that little plan of yours failed miserably a little while ago. And you know that I don't need my succubus to do it." He smirked.

Shadowstep thought for a moment then pointed to Alessandre. "I am going order Alessandre to go into hiding. And he's done it many times in the past… I don't think you want to be in the position of hunting him for eternity. In fact, the Kaldorei Rogue Network thought he was a ghost until a few months ago."

Faltheriel pouted at Alessandre's confident smile.

"Fine. There's a curse involving your family… it's far too complicated to explain, and when Zar'teaus told us about it so that we could save his immortal life with demon magics, it was unclear even then. But, from what I know, it's hereditary."

"You agreed to work with us because you knew Zar'teaus was going after my son!" Onyxbane flared. Opalbane was troubled to hear this too.

Faltheriel cleared his throat. "Opalbane is the one currently carrying the curse… and I knew that Alessandre foiled Zar'teaus' plans to use her. That could only mean that he was hoping to find some other family member who carried it… only I didn't know whom it could be. That is, until now."

"A curse… this doesn't make any sense." Onyxbane sheathed his axe and covered his face with his hands. "Look! We need to find Wisthera, and then get my son back. I am turning my mount around," and he did, "towards the Barrens. If anyone is going to help me, then you better come right now, because I won't wait for stragglers when it's my family at stake."

"Faltheriel, I can't believe that you would keep something like this from us." Feathershine admonished him. Shadowstep frowned at her. The complaint was more than a little naïve, even coming from a Priestess of Elune.

"Deliah, he isn't exactly our friend. And furthermore, this is a temporary alliance—"

"Silence!" Faltheriel grabbed the reins of Onyxbane's Nightsaber and yanked the angry cat around. "Time is of the essence, we don't have another moment to discuss this any further. I have a way to get us to this Wisthera person instantly, if you'll listen."

Onxbane shifted uncomfortably atop his black and white Nightsaber.

"You there, warrior. Lend me your soul for a moment—"

"Oh no you don't!" Alessandre instantly objected.

Faltheriel narrowed his long golden eyebrows. "They have a child together, their souls are bonded. If he allows me access, I can open a portal through that bond, allowing us to pass between the realms and reappear instantly at her side."

"Like a warlock's summoning spell." Opalbane observed, intrigued.

"An inverted one, yes. And… there's a small side effect. It could make Wisthera go mad… but just a little crazy," he pinched his fingers together, as if madness could be measured, "and not for very long."

Onyxbane was already shaking his head.

"Wait a minute, Faltheriel." Opalbane put in, "If you can teleport us to Wisthera… then couldn't you take us directly to my nephew? The baby's soul is bonded to Onyxbane too…"

"Certainly not! Unless you want to permanently harm the child! An adult is far less susceptible to the spell. What do you think I am, a monster?" Faltheriel threw his hands up in the air. "Now, Onyxbane. Will you allow me access to your soul or not? The magics of the Burning Legion are powerful and perhaps painful… but accurate. That, at the least, I can promise you."

Onyxbane, rolled his shoulders, uncomfortable. "Okay. Let's do it."

Priestess Feathershine flew into a flurry of objections, but Shadowstep calmed her down. "Sometimes, love, you have to be a little evil… to do a lot of good."

The Priestess of Elune rolled her eyes, unconvinced. A lifetime of experience with the Master Rogue had taught her otherwise.

"So, what do you need me to do?" Onyxbane dismounted, and stood in front of Faltheriel.

The strange Blood Elf smiled. "Oh, you've already done it, handsome." He thrust a hand forward, and a flow of purple energy leaped out of Onyxbane's chest and into the palm of the Legion Ranger's hand. Onyxbane cringed and set his jaw tight against it, went on his knees with the pain. It was clear that everyone around wanted to help, but knew they could not. Finally, Faltheriel reached around with his other hand and pinched the flow of power with his fingers. He actually stretched the thread of the soul spell until it was as wide as a doorway. They could hear Wisthera's voice beyond…

"Ladies first." He bowed elegantly.

_Earlier that day, in Stranglethorn Vale…_

"So, sistah… tell me about yourself?" the Troll Shia'jin handed Wisthera a cup of tea. It smelled foul. "You gotta drink it, to keep up your strength. I be a good Alchemist, I know."

Wisthera wondered why Shia'jin looked so composed. The jungle was hotter than she remembered… or was it just her?

"How come you speak Common?" she put off drinking the concoction.

Shia'jin smiled. "When you need the rarest herbs in Azeroth, you learn to save your money. And knowin' whetha or not some Goblin be givin' you a good deal hinges on you speakin' dere language… you hear me?" he chuckled and slapped his knee. "And then there be Humans that I talk to… I'll make friends with anyone who'll sell me the right herbs."

Wisthera brought the tea to her lips. The campfire crackled steadily before them. Though it was morning, Shia'jin had wanted to boil water for her poultices and the tea. He had only one crude tent that he let Wisthera sleep in. He claimed to sleep in the trees at night…

"You say you're a shaman?" she really didn't want to drink his tea. "How did that happen? And how are you related to my boyfriend again?"

Shia'jin shook his head. "You are going to feel miserable if you keep bein' stubborn and don't trust me, girly. Drink your tea."

What if it was poisoned? What if she woke up in Orgrimmar, and never saw her baby boy again? Wisthera started to panic.

"Fine. I'll tell you about myself." Wisthera was starting to feel dizzy. She felt her forehead with the back of her hand. It was burning hot. "I ran away from home when I was fifteen. And then," she grabbed hold of her stomach and doubled over. "Ugh… someone told me to give this stolen ring to a priestess named Opal…urp!"

"Drink it." Shia'jin started to get angry. "I cannot carry you all da way through the jungle. We just barely cleared the Rebel Camp… we lucky no Alliance saw me dragging you off, I'da had da whole Stormwind army afta' me if they see us togetha like that. You gotta heal! My powers only go so far, girly."

Wisthera was still shaking her head, no. Shia'jin got up and wrapped his three strong fingers around her own, forced her head back, and poured the now lukewarm tea down her throat.

Wisthera fought it with everything she had… and then… she started to feel numb.

"Betta?" he sat back down across campfire.

Wisthera slumped over, and Shia'jin rushed to her side just in time. He dragged her to where he'd laid a reed mat on the ground nearby. They were in a small clearing between two gigantic fig trees.

"Betta now?" he asked her when she was lying on her back. He lay down next to her.

"You look so much like my boyfriend. I miss him so much… why won't he marry me?" Her worries crashed together in sloppy sentences. In one moment she was sultry and seductive, in another she sounded desperate. "How do I even know I can trust you… I never thought that Trolls could be so handsome? If you know where my baby is… you can have whatever you want, I promise. I'm so lonely… why did he leave me alone in Darkshire? If you've never been with a Night Elf woman before… please…"

Wisthera then groaned and held her head in her hands. "I just want my Onyxbane," she cried.

Shia'jin smiled sadly and wrapped an arm around her. "There, there, sistagirl… we gonna find your baby. Then I take you back to your husband."

"He hasn't married me! He's not my husband, that jackass!" she blurt out.

Shia'jin started laughing. "You know what I do when I get scared? I close my eyes… and I recall the best story that eva was. Would you like to hear it?"

Wisthera tried to sit up, but couldn't.

"No, you just lay dere. I am the storyteller in my family. You'll like it… it about honor, and love, and betrayal, about monsters and heroes..."

"Is there a handsome warrior in that story?" Wisthera's breathing became more even, and she nuzzled into his arm.

Shia'jin thought about her request. "There wasn't one before… but there is now." He looked pleased with the idea. "If you listen… then we can go back to searching the jungle for Zar'teaus' tracks and your baby. Alright? Will you at least rest while I tell it?"

Wisthera nodded groggily. Shia'jin looked at the beautiful female elf. Shades of dark green leaves covered her glowing eyes. It reminded him of his own face paint. He wished Troll women had such beautiful markings. What would it be like to kiss a woman Night Elf…

Wisthera closed her eyes.

Shia'jin cleared his throat. "I start at the best part, at the beginning…"

_Long, long ago, at the beginning of time, Trolls and Night Elves were one people. The race did not have a name that anyone remembers… but those who do are mostly Trolls in my family and they are too proud of the heritage to let it go. It would be dangerous to forget what happened or why the schism began, or the curse…_

Wisthera opened her eyes to reassure herself that it was Shia'jin speaking. He looked at her sideways. "The story be powerful… the history of my ancestors, of the first people be clear in everyone's heart."

He continued, _The first Jin, my great ancestor was a High Priest before all the gods. Hakkar the windserpent was there with them, and Aquamentas the water god, Elune the moon goddess, and one called Zar'teaus who was a great raptor, and there were many others to represent all animals and forms on Azeroth. High Priest Jin guided the first people in worship and all was well until the gods became greedy. Maybe you know about Hakkar and the terror he brought the Trolls here in this jungle thousands of yearse later. But Zar'teaus was far worse, and even more bloodthirsty. The horned raptor god began to ruin our lives._

_People bent their backs day and night in worship, there were so many gods. The ones who went to the temples at night to appease them brought news to the great Jin that Zar'teaus was making them do horrible things in the darkness. At first no one wanted to believe the tales of mortal sacrifice, the rituals, the mass weddings of virgins to the greedy Zar'teaus…but Jin finally went to see for himself and he knew that evil had been done in Azeroth. After learning the truth, he brought all the priests together to decide what to do. Clearly, the gods were more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Their desires were excessive, and the more we gave, the more volatile they became. Some priests, like Jin, wanted to stop god worship altogether. Others, many of them Night worshippers, felt some of the gods were good and beautiful, like the moon goddess Elune. They did not want to abandon her. She felt like a mother to them already._

_But High Priest Jin argued that Zar'teaus the raptor god also began as a benevolent deity… there was no way to be sure how the gods would change over time. Elune could one day betray them as well. But the Night worshippers saw this as blasphemy. That is how the schism began._

_The Night worshipers told Elune of their plight and she showed them a place by a beautiful moonlight pool in which they could live and pray to her in peace. Jin was greatly disturbed by this, but people did not fight each other back then. He allowed them to have their goddess, while he and the Day worshippers went about burying their temples and abandoning their gods._

_Zar'teaus learned of their plan, and he reacted as would a raptor: with an offensive show of violence. The Wrath was horrible. Zar'teaus threatened everyone who tried to flee his temples. This forced brother to turn against brother and mother against father…until at last the people enslaved each other in worship of the gods, so that Zar'teaus, the worst of them, would not become angry and destroy the nonbelievers._

_High Priest Jin secretly went to ask the Night worshippers for help, but they were devoted to their moon goddess by then and the Well of Eternity she'd found for them. They threatened Jin with war if he dared bring the Wrath upon their beautiful kingdom too. And you know well, how worshipping a kind goddess changed the Night worshipers into elves and the vengeful gods, lead by Zar'teaus made the day worshipers into twisted Trolls that hated everything in existence, even each other…_

_Jin saw how his people would eventually be destroyed by their anger and decided to break the bond of slavery between the god Zar'teaus and his Trolls, once and for all._

_The High Priest used his talents as a Witch Doctor to gather the rarest plant, rock, and motes of elements to conjure a hex that could enslave the master of the gods. All the forms of Azeroth were represented in the cauldron, except for that of mortal life. Jin knew that an innocent soul would need to be sacrificed in order to perfect the magic but he dared not steal the life of someone unwilling or unworthy. To end the cycle of hate in more hate and resentment seemed cruel, and he was wise to perceive this. Therefore, Jin made the greatest sacrifice of all. He bathed himself in the mixture, transforming his mortal soul into an eternal hex, a weapon he could use to hobble the god Zar'teaus forever. The High Priest was the only one alive willing and worthy of the sacrifice._

_That year, High Priest Jin summoned the god at the most important Troll religious festival during the rainy season. Jin raised his arms above his head, and said the traditional words: 'I, on behalf of all the Trolls, renew the bond of worship before you, great Raptor God Zar'teaus, in fear, in blood, and in flesh. Please honor us by accepting my offer of enslavement, and together we will continue to rule over the earth.'_

_And Zar'teaus shook his toothed jowls and said, 'I, Zar'teaus, accept your offer of servitude. May you bring more blood and flesh to my altar, and I will revel in that sacrifice with the other gods. Through me, we are all bonded, as through you, all Trolls are beholden to me.'_

_That was the last rainy season festival, the day Jin freed all people from the leash of Zar'teaus. It was also the first day that the gods began to grow old. For, through the ceremony, Zar'teaus unwittingly reversed his power and that of his brethren. Jin asked for Zar'teaus' godly will with the strength of everything that is, having bathed in the glory of life itself. What is stronger than the very essence of existence? He tricked Zar'teaus into becoming the slave. Now, the great Jin owned the power of the old god Zar'teaus. The first wish of the noble priest's heart was to set the Trolls free._

_It was not obvious at first, to Zar'teaus, nor to Jin… but eventually, the Trolls were able to abandon the altars. The other old gods tried to punish the mortals who were supposed to be their slave worshippers but the powers of the aging gods had no effect. The old gods went to Elune and asked her for help, but she was still young and beautiful, still wise. She was not bonded to them in the contract of worship with the Trolls. She was safe from Jin's hex and refused to help those greedy ones. Clearly she instructed her people to forget about the corrupted Trolls and the Wrath. It was horrible to know that they were descended from such darkness. Maybe she was wise to do it. The Night Elves live with such pride these days… it gives them such strength and hope to imagine themselves unconnected to the old ways._

_Meanwhile, the Trolls, thus freed, went off to pursue their own individual minds and hearts. They formed separate tribes and cultures. The storytellers in my family say that some tribes eventually got lost and forgot the sacrifice of Jin, even daring to bring the old god Hakkar into the world again thousands of years later. But this was far off into the future. At that time when the Wrath ended, their bodies were twisted with the curse of having hated Zar'teaus and each other so much, but their souls were truly free._

_Zar'teaus hated his High Priest Jin for the betrayal and tried to destroy him many times, but he could not. Whatever Zar'teaus did to Jin he did to himself a thousandfold. The old god's strength diminished rapidly. And, with no one to worship him, Zar'teaus and the others lost even more power. High Priest Jin was celebrated as a hero by the Trolls and he lived a very long time because of the hex. However, after many years passed, Jin found that he dark magic he'd used to hex Zar'teaus had hexed him too. They were locked in a curse through the bond between god and high priest forever._

_High Priest Jin, my ancestor, went mad. He could feel Zar'teaus' hate in his heart. He could hear the old god's voice in his mind. At times that he did not hear it, the Wrath consumed Jin and made him do horrible things. He feared that Zar'teaus would make him take revenge on his family and left civilization to live on his own._

_But the Wrath filled Jin up, and he tore out of his recluse after many years. The legend goes that he came across a kindhearted Night Elf woman, a fair priestess who felt compassion for Jin. She built him a home in the wilderness and visited him from time to time with food and shared her company with him. They say that Jin loved her, though he had an old wife that still lived and his own sons. Eventually, Jin's heart moved him to do what all men do when they meet a beautiful woman, but Zar'teaus possessed him then and corrupted the act. _

Shia'jin turned to Wisthera. She was able to sit up now and waited eagerly for the result.

"That be where your handsome warrior comes in. Zar'teaus and Jin together, in the hex, raped the priestess."

Wisthera thought about this. She covered her mouth with her hand, mourning the millennium old hurt of her boyfriend's ancestor.

_But the Night Elf priestess could not hate the child Jin gave her. She took the baby home and raised it alone… the Trolls in my family who still tell this story are not so sure what happened to the Night Elf descendants of High Priest Jin. But the curse still exists in me today, and so if they live, it rests in them too. Every generation carries the curse: the Wrath of the old god Zar'teaus plagues their hearts and spirits. It makes them speak in evil voices, and do evil things… things their true selves would never do. But that side of them, their innocent self is forever lost because of Jin's sacrifice. And what of Jin? He went back home to his wife, and tried to live life normally, because being alone had not helped him. The horrible evil he committed against the Night Elf priestess made him feel terrible. He tried to find her after she fled but could not. He chose to flee as well, to run away from that wayward life, of a cursed recluse._

_When Jin returned to the Trolls, it was like he came back from the dead. Jin fathered a final son with his old wife, though it should not have been possible. Back then the people thought it was a miracle... but it was just the Wrath manifesting itself. The great Jin did not know this however. It took generations to understand what had happened. He simply tried to turn over a new leaf. He told his family about the Night Elf mistress and warned us to never forget his wrong, to pass it on in stories. He urged us to respect every Night Elf we came across, because one never knew… someday we might meet the other side of the family._

_But when Jin died, the curse lived on in his ancestors. There was one in every generation…the Wrath passed to Xai'jin and Bisha'jin, to Sheilaah'jin and so on… until finally, thousands of years later, I, Shia'jin was taught the story, so that I might know the curse and beware of my evil deeds. But the sacrifice of the great Jin also gave my family hope. Those who carry the Wrath always make exceptionally gifted holy men, like Jin was. That is my one saving grace, choosing to become a shaman. It has kept me from destroying the people I love, even though the curse of the Wrath lives on in my heart.  
_

Wisthera looked at Shia'jin warily. "I see… so Opalbane has the Wrath too. Zar'teaus wanted to make her into his High Priestess... but he can't use her anymore." Wisthera stood. "My son! He has the curse."

Shia'jin got to his feet too. "I'm sorry Wisthera... but once he is born and his soul marked, there is nothing we can do to stop it... unless Zar'teaus is destroyed once and for all. Zar'teaus has tried to end the curse many times, girly, by killing members of my family. We passed down the story and kept hidin' because that was all we could do to protect ourselves from an old god. And though we are of the Darkspear Tribe and a part of the Horde... our family has made a secret vow to shed no Night Elf blood. I don't know what Zar'teaus wanted with this Opalbane or now your son... or why he took him alive. But, if Zar'teaus thinks he can just kill all da cursed descendants of Jin, and be free… den the same should work for us. It is time to finally kill the master." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Now, you be ready to get back on our hunt?"

Wisthera stood. "Yes. You were right, Shia'jin. That story, the story of _my_ son's ancestry is the greatest ever told. Now that I know what has to be done to keep him safe..." She flashed a roguish smile, gaining confidence. "I feel stronger already."


	16. The Betrayal of Myrielle

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Sixteen: Myrielle's Betrayal**

Stanley Steamvault, whom everyone called The Steamer smoked a pipe at Myrielle's table. She was making them some herb-baked eggs for breakfast.

"So… everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong." He said.

Second Commander Myrielle smiled pleasantly. "Oh, Steamer… don't remind of that right now. By all rights I should not have opened up to you last night, about everything that's been going on around here. But the pressure finally got to me."

Stanley tussled his green hair, a disturbed look on his face. "Since the Master Rogue left you in charge, Mathias Shaw took advantage and sent even more agents to breathe down your neck about the Stormwind murders. It was obvious to everyone, even me, that someone within the KRN was doing it and Shadowstep just covered it up when he found out. Then, Goldstein came back for some revenge regarding the secrets agents Wisthera and Alessandre leaked about the Maker's Terrace some months ago… I know firsthand that King Magni Bronzebeard is still furious about that. The Night Elves were nearly ripped right out of the Alliance because of all that scandal coming home to roost. You were up to your neck in all the bad blood yesterday, when they came demanding that the KRN disband for good. It's a good thing I paid you a visit when I did. I risked a lot to go against my colleagues and vouch for you. But, thankfully, my little speech was timely made."

Myrielle fixed their plates and brought them to the table. "Yes, thank you Stanley. I would have ruined everything if not for your help."

Stanley reached across Myrielle serving him to pick up a fork. Their eyes met briefly and they blushed. "You're good, Myrielle Fadeleaf. Very good. Shadowstep had better pick you to succeed him. A lot of this was _his_ mess you know."

"Correction. All of it is agent Alessandre's mess, _and_ agent Wisthera's. The Master Rogue job is already as good as mine."

They ate quietly for a moment.

"You know… if Shadowstep really is so unworthy, to let these mere agents displace him… you should probably just take his job now."

Myrielle raised both eyebrows. "But how?"

Stanley The Steamer grinned slyly. "In my opinion, Master Rogue Shadowstep is incompetent. He goes off on a personal vacation at precisely the moment that his rogues need him the most. And at that, it's some forty day sexcapade!"

"Stanley!"

"Well, it _is._ And he's run over now, hasn't he? And not a word to you, his Second in Command. Does he even know what almost happened to the Kaldorei Rogue Network last night? Hmm? It nearly imploded, but I stepped in and helped you mediate between the Human and Dwarf rogues who came to the KRN with torches, finally fed up with all the secrets."

Stanley narrowed his eyes at her. "It's not been done in a long time, but with my help, we could summon a Conclave of Master Rogues. We could go over Darnassus' head, for the sake of the Alliance, and get Shadowstep out. Then, we could put you in."

Myrielle had to put down her fork. "Stanley… you don't need to protect me from Shadowstep. Last night… well, it was wonderful, but I think you're taking it too far."

Stanley The Steamer gazed at the voluptuous Myrielle. Just like the night before, seeing her at work made him melt. His serious expression broke into a giddy smile, like he felt he was the luckiest Gnome in the world.

Myrielle leaned across the table and kissed Stanley on the cheek. "You are clever and handsome… and you saved my ass yesterday." She sighed. "Alright, I trust you. If you really think this is the best thing for the KRN, I'm willing to try it."

Stanley hopped up in his chair instantly. "I swear, Myrielle, you won't regret it! The two of us will finally get the recognition we've been waiting for all our lives. Goldstein won't make fun of me anymore, that's for sure, and Mathias Shaw will have to respect you for collaborating with me—"

"No! I meant… maybe you're right about Shadowstep. Many people over the years have wondered about his ruthlessness. I've… well, I'm the biggest champion of his efforts, but even I had my doubts. I guess it's time to end what all the KRN rogues call his 'Reign of Terror.'"

"With a name like that, you'd think the decision would be easier on you…"

Myrielle started laughing. "I guess you're right. But, on the other hand, I don't want to betray Shadowstep. He's already two weeks beyond the end of his current mission contract. I haven't heard a thing from him since he left… were he in my shoes, his judgment would be far more harsh. His future as a rogue would be shot to pieces by now."

"Then… why not give the man what's coming to him?"

The fate of Jebidiath Shadowstep was now hanging in the balance. Second Commander Myrielle understood this very well.

She walked around the table and wrapped her arms around Stanley, her newfound lover. "You wouldn't be manipulating me, would you? Did you come all the way to Darnassus at a critical moment only to lend a hand I couldn't turn down? And then took advantage of our little victory celebration in order to sleep with me last night? I'm not so new at this Steamy. I can tell that you only want to win more respect from the other Spymasters in the Alliance... and well, I guess I was part of the prize too."

Stanley waited a while before answering. "The interests of Gnomereggan have been disregarded for too long. And, I do adore you Myrielle… I never wanted it to end like this. I've had my eye on you for a while and an opportunity finally presented itself last night… but I'll understand if you don't like what I'm doing to you, by using you like this."

Myrielle smiled. "And that… is so very sexy. A manipulative rogue who is honest about his intentions! That's so bold… oh I like you very much Steamer. Alright. I've made up my mind about Jebidiath Shadowstep. Let's call a Conclave of the Master Rogues, for the good of the Alliance, for the better interests of the KRN." she kissed him again.

"Are you certain you want to usurp his power, Myrielle? Because that's what you're about to do."

Myrielle began to purr against the Gnome Master Rogue's cheek. "And they say that Gnome rogues can't seduce anyone… I think I'm quite taken with you, Stanley. You and all your brilliant ideas, the timely saving of my ass; you are going to make me the most powerful Mistress Rogue there ever was. Plan B17 Alpha, The Mission Implausible, is hereby a failure."

"Huh? I've not heard of that mission—"

Myrielle knelt down so that they were eye level. "If you keep me company for another couple of hours…" she winked at him, quickly changing the subject. "I might be convinced to make you lunch as well. Then we can see about making me a star."

Among rogues, it's never clear who is using whom, or why. But, no one gets their nose bloodied as long as each person is getting used equally, their backs mutually scratched. In this situation, however, Shadowstep was the one getting the shortest end of the stick.

_That same moment in Stranglethorn Vale…_

"Why do I have a feeling that something else just went horribly wrong?" Shadowstep raised both his green eyebrows as he watched the young people fight, yet again.

This time, there was a Troll involved.

"I swear, on my motha's life! I not sleep with your girlfriend! We brothas!"

Onyxbane growled at the blue Troll who said his name was Shia'jin. "You aren't my brother! I had one father… maybe two mothers, counting Priestess Feathershine… and only one crazy big sister. You are NOT one of us!"

Wisthera crouched low, squaring off with Faltheriel some feet away. "I'm going to kill you, you filthy Blood Elf. How dare you put your hands on my—"

"Bloodthistle, really! Your boyfriend is a handsome warrior. You can't really expect a man with eyes to keep his hands to himself—"

"Using his soul to summon a portal has absolutely nothing to do with grabbing his ass!"

Meanwhile, Alessandre was hardly better off. "Moonlily… I swear! That I understand Shia'jin is a blessing right now. I forgot that I understood Troll language… it's not like I was hiding anything from you. Opal, you can't look into my mind, see that I was a concubine for the Gurubashi Queen Hexaba hundreds of years ago and get jealous… I didn't even know you back then. How can I be lying or cheating?!"

"I could have lived my whole life without knowing you man-whored yourself all over Azeroth before meeting me! You sick pervert—"

_I think I…something tells me I need to get back to Darnassus, and right this minute!_ Shadowstep thought.

"Jebidiath! Please do something… they are going to tear each other apart, and then we'll never find my grandbaby!"

Shadowstep groaned that he couldn't even hear himself thinking with Feathershine's crazy family around.

"Alright! That's it! You there, orphan whelp! Your husband has a nasty history with women, which you knew when you married him. Don't go complaining about it now that we have a Troll working with us. The translation will help because his Common, as expected, is terrible!" Next, he pointed at Alessandre. "You had better NOT tell us anything else disturbing about your past. I do not want to know any more about your romantic abilities than I found out by accident over the last few months." He made a face. "And you, Blood Elf! Don't go flirting with everything that's got legs. There are too many love triangles going on in this family as it is… we don't need you to make things even worse."

"Old man, how dare you threaten me—"

"You're liable to get killed with Wisthera around. I warn you, she is incredibly volatile when it comes to—"

Faltheriel's loud scream of anguish cut Shadowstep's warning right off. The Blood Elf looked down to see a dagger stabbed into his side. Wisthera's left eye twitched, and she was mumbling incoherently with an obvious fever as Faltheriel slumped to the ground. Then, he fell over.

Shadowstep shrugged. "Told you."

"He dead, mon?" Shia'jin looked alarmed. Everyone, almost simultaneously observed aloud that Faltheriel was a member of the Burning Legion and would probably just resurrect on his own in a few moments.

Finally, Shadowstep walked over to Onyxbane. The Master Rogue carefully pried the warrior's fingers from around the Troll's neck. "Look here." He poked Shia'jin's jaw. "Same as yours. Skin, also blue. And… furthermore, he's got this thing around his neck." Onyxbane started to ask what it was, when Shadowstep shook his head. "It looks like a Devilsaur tooth to me, but whether or not it belongs to the Old God Zar'teaus is irrelevant. Night Elves are related to Trolls. Trust me, as the Master Rogue, I know for a fact. Maybe this Shia'jin is not your brother, but he's some long-lost version of you, that's for sure. Can't you see the resemblance?"

"Yes, I went to Darkshore to find Zar'teaus." Shia'jin tried to explain again. A Far seer in Orgrimmar tell me how to get revenge on Zar'teaus for my family, and I follow da instructions to the letter. Even help girly" he pointed to Wisthera, "Because of the family vow to shed no Night Elf blood. We be allies, mon."

Shadowstep guided Onyxbane away from the Troll, now that they trusted him. Shia'jin attempted to continue his story. "And den the family curse, the Wrath of Zar'teaus be da ting I want to end. It tortured me and my ancestors, made me hurt my own family—"

"Yes, yes, revenge, subplot and all that." Shadowstep waved the Troll off. "Now, are we going to make camp so that Wisthera can get some obvious medical attention, or are we going to let her lay on the ground, passed out from her fever?"

And Wisthera_ was_ now lying on the ground, unconscious right next to her latest stabbing victim. They got her onto a mat, and some of Shia'jin's tea in her system before Faltheriel could wake up and do something else stupid that merited a stabbing.

They waited nearly all day for the two elves to recover. Evening fell and they made a fire. Master Rogue Shadowstep found himself again lurking in the background, brooding over his own careful plans while everyone else went on with mundane conversation. The desire to get back to Darnassus really gnawed at him now. He felt he could ignore his rogue instinct no longer. Shadowstep stood.

Priestess Feathershine walked around the campfire, and hurried to his side.

"Jebidiath! Where are you going?"

Shadowstep flinched, as if he weren't even aware that he was leaving. He came out of his trance. "I… I have to go back to Darnassus, now. Something isn't right."

Feathershine became angry. "How would you even know that? Was there a messenger of some kind?"

"No."

"A letter? A smoke signal? Perhaps a powerful dream…"

"Dammit, Deliah! I just _know_… I've been doing this too long. I know when something is up. Darnassus has been too quiet, and my Second Commander hasn't even tried to contact me. It's almost as if… she doesn't want me to know what's going on."

Feathershine walked alongside him a few paces. "So that's it? You're just going to leave me and my family? You're not even going to try to clean up the mess you started?" she put her hands her hips. "And what about me? Are you really going to… it felt like we were on the right track, yesterday. You complained a storm about helping me, but you stayed." Feathershine stopped following him.

The jungle was getting dark. A tropical bird cawed and chuckled in the distant treetops. Shadowstep turned to the woman he loved. "Deliah, what are you saying? Do you… forgive me?"

Feathershine wiped a tear from her eye. "I don't know… the more I get frustrated with your behavior, the more I realize that you aren't so unpredictable. In truth, you are a selfish, bitter, arrogant man. You act accordingly. But, maybe it's not necessarily bad. You set everyone straight just now. We walked through some kind of Burning Legion soul portal to Stranglethorn Vale, only to see Wisthera trying to seduce or kill that poor Troll Shia'jin, and then she turned on Faltheriel, Alessandre overheard the Troll talking about going to Grom'gol Base camp, and Opalbane read his mind and then turned on him for understanding the language… oh, it was a confusing mess! I thought everyone was going to kill everyone else, but you handled it with only a few words." She wringed her hands. "Jebidiath, we need you. I… if you leave now, I won't know what to think. If you stay and continue to help, maybe things will get better?"

There were a lot of maybes involved. No rogue in his right mind would put much stock in that, and certainly wouldn't raise it above his instinct. A rogue's instinct kept him alive, kept him from going down the wrong dark alley, or breaking stealth at the wrong moment.

"I love you Deliah."

"Then please stay."

Shadowstep looked off to the north, where he knew the road led out of Stranglethorn Vale and then to Darkshire. In the Human lands he could catch a Gryphon down to Menethil Harbor and be back in Darnassus within two weeks.

The undergrowth crunched softly as Shadowstep walked over to Feathershine. He whispered to her, "I have a feeling… something very bad is about to happen. I can almost," he winced. "I can _taste_ it Feathershine… but, I want you more." Then he kissed her.

Feathershine pushed away from him immediately. "I didn't want that." She raised open palms between them, nervous.

But where there was indecision, a master manipulator knew there was a sliver of hope, a crack that he could widen. Shadowstep took a step closer, and seized the woman he loved in his arms. "I want you Deliah. We _are_ going to be together again." he watched the Priestess of Elune relax in his arms, her defiant guise fade away, as it always did…

"We can't go to Grom'gol Base Camp! That's Horde Territory!" Alessandre was shouting at Shia'jin. "You think I can't understand what you're saying, but I can! Stop lying to us!"

"Look, you pretty boy, I be trying to find Wisthera's baby. He and da Old God went to Grom'gol… dat be what the raptor tooth tells me. We don't have a choice." Was the response in broken Common.

The spark of a lightning shield being fired up finally brought Shadowstep back.

"Alright! That's it. Everyone to bed, NOW!"

There was a great deal of complaining from the young people, but everyone eventually obeyed and got into their bedrolls. Shadowstep grimaced the whole time, trying not to feel so paternal. Afterward, he sat on a log by the fire, exhausted. The night sounds of the jungle filled in the silence that the young people and Feathershine's family had been stifling. It was even a little relaxing.

_Myrielle… I trust you, like my right hand. Please don't let me down while I settle this one last thing. I need Feathershine. Only you understand how much. _Shadowstep thought as sleep claimed him.

But it was too late.

_Exactly two weeks later…_

Myrielle Fadeleaf placed her open palm on the book Human Master Rogue Mathias Shaw was holding. High Priestess Tyrande watched stoically, flanked by a multitude of other priestesses and rogues. Many Sentinels flanked the walls of the KRN headquarters, flashing their silvery clawed weapons in the darkness.

"I do swear, before all those assembled here, to serve the people of Darnassus in the interests of intelligence and security to my best ability. I respect the decision of this Conclave of Master Rogues, to unanimously appoint me where one before failed. I will not fail the Alliance in his place, but lift her up, make her proud again."

All the Alliance Master Rogues nodded in turn.

"I hope you serve us well." High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind told Myrielle in her rich voice. "Mistress Rogue Fadeleaf."


	17. A Family Feud

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Seventeen: A Family Feud**

A green-haired Troll woman eyed Adeiline suspiciously. They sat in hammocks across from each other in the Grom'gol inn.

"You gonna' eat that?" she pointed at the giggling Night Elf baby in the Undead woman's lap.

Adeiline looked horrified. "No!"

The snoring of the other patrons filled in the awkward silence. It was a Horde kind of silence that builds up between people who insist on being conventional, despite their faction.

"Den why you gotta Night Elf baby? You gonna' raise it? Where?"

Adeiline rolled her eyes. "He's mine. I'm not going to hurt him... well, not very much. I like little Elfie."

"Elfie?" the female Troll skeptically raised an eyebrow. "No, give it here. I got some soothing spices and there's a bonfire right outside. We'll make a stew–"

"No!"

_Adeiline, take the baby outside the encampment. We are no longer safe here._

Adeiline's glowing yellow eyes dulled as Zar'teaus spoke in her mind. They sparked back to life and the woman stood, cradling the poorly swaddled baby against her bony chest.

"He's miiiiine." Adeiline hissed through her rotted jaw, using all of her Undead charm. The pale skin on her brow wrinkled until the crease marks stretched into little tears. It caused the Troll to back down, revolted.

Adeiline took some time gathering tinder for a fire in the darkness just outside the camp, but once it was going steadily, she fed the fat baby she called 'Elfie' from a bottle and started to play with him.

"Adeiline! Let me out now!" She'd completely forgot about the Old God she worshipped.

When Zar'teaus was released from the dingy glass jar he floated right up to his High Priestess. "How DARE you put that baby before me! Ever since we captured that Wrath spawn, all you do is coddle him and play with him... what about me?" and Zar'teaus started coughing like a sickly old man.

Adeiline harrumphed. "You're just jealous. Nor are you taking your prescribed fel capsules. If you're feeling less villainous today, it's your own fault."

Zar'teaus growled at her. "Look here, you. Don't get attached to that baby. We are leaving for Undercity tomorrow morning when the Zepplins run again. You are going to call in some of your favors among the Royal Apothecaries. Now, I am only going to ask this one more time: are you sure there are those among the Forsaken who can use necromancy to put me in this new body? Because if not, this whole trip will have been a waste..."

"Yes! I dated Apothecary Keever... err... and his brother. At the same time. Before we had our little falling out a few years back, they were doing experiments in necromancy for the Dark Lady. If they can force the soul of a Human captive into a chicken, take a Human woman as a Mind Slave, or stitch together an Abomination, I'm sure that they can implant your soul into a Night Elf baby." then she looked sad, "Aww... poor Elfie."

"None of that!" Zar'teaus snapped at her. He looked exceptionally terrible these days. His blackened skin was completely consumed by the gray fog of his body. His reptilian jaw had fallen away long ago. Only a few jagged teeth were left, and what looked like a fourth of a Devilsaur snout. It seemed that the thread of him that emanated from the jar, like the tail of a cyclone, could have been a raptor's tail... given a bit more flesh and scales.

Wisthera's baby stopped giggling at the Undead woman and looked at Zar'teaus calmly. It caused the Old God to hop back a step.

"You keep that thing away from me, Adeiline. It's possessed with the Wrath, you know."

"Oh, he's harmless! Besides, isn't that what you wanted? To destroy the final descendent of Jin by taking his body and reuniting with the Wrath he stole from you?"

"Well... yes, but–"

"No 'buts'!" Adeiline clucked her tongue. "Elf soul or not, the two of you are going to have to share a body soon... you'd best start getting along now." Elfie looked like he wanted to get down, so Adeiline set him on his feet. In the presence of an ex-Royal Apothecary, and Twilight Cultist, and a millenia-old god, the newborn was growing at an alarming rate. He was making noises and already starting to walk...

Elfie turned circles on his hands and knees until he aimed himself at Zar'teaus a foot away.

"Adeiline... get him away..." Zar'teaus shivered.

Adeiline just smiled at the little blue-skinned baby. She'd tied up a small snatch of white hair on the round little head into a ponytail. One wondered if Adeiline realized she caused the baby to look like his father with the hairdo. Elfie pushed himself up off the ground into a crouch and he looked at Zar'teaus evilly as he tried to stand. Then, on wobbly little legs, Wisthera's son took one clumsy step toward the Old God and then another...

"Zar'teaus! He's walking! This is the first time..." Adeiline covered her mouth and started to get teary eyed. It reminded her of a little boy she had, a lifetime ago.

Zar'teaus was stunned too. Little Elfie gurgled at him through an eerie wicked smile that he, as a monster, came to find endearing. Zar'teaus extended what was left of smoky arms, hovered low to catch the baby when it finally reached him. "Well, I suppose you will become my body after all..." he chanced a hopeful smile.

At the last moment, Elfie snarled at the Old God, reached up through his vaporous body and grabbed hold of his last two raptor teeth. Zar'teaus shrieked when the little baby yanked and pulled the last of his Devilsaur choppers clear out of his mouth.

Adeiline flitted between the elderly god howling in pain and little Elfie's screeching baby warcry. At last, she chose the baby.

"Zar'teaus! Elfie was not supposed to be able to do that! You've been sneaking him your fel capsules, haven't you?"

Zar'teaus put himself back into the jar. "I didn't want them! But I didn't think they would make him so strong, so fast... close the lid, Adeiline!"

Zar'teaus' Undead high priestess cooed to little Elfie to calm him down and then screwed the metal top back onto Zar'teaus' jar.

_Adeiline, are you listening to me, you twit? I have something important to tell you._

She pouted, but put the baby down for a moment. "Yes, Master?"

"_I WANT THAT BABY'S SOUL DESTROYED WHEN WE GET TO UNDERCITY!"_ Zar'teaus roared in her mind. Adeiline fell to her knees and grasped the sides of her head. _"I don't want any remnant of resentment left in my new body... the only Wrath I'm taking with me into my new life is the anger I've already got bubbling inside of me... for that insidious Troll and his descendants. I will make them all burn for what they've done to me! That will be the first order of business. Goodnight."_

Adeiline slumped down beside the fire. Baby Elfie was playing with Zar'teaus' teeth in the dirt. Despite his fate, the Undead woman couldn't help feel warmed by the little baby, if the orange campfire couldn't warm her body. Elfie warmed deep into her soul, in a place that she thought the Scourge had taken from her when they destroyed her village, murdered her own baby son... Adeiline watched the tear slide down her cheek, but she didn't feel it. She was Undead, it was hard to feel anything anymore...

"But you can." she said to Elfie. He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. Adeiline glanced over to see if her master was asleep in the jar. He was. She whispered, "Little one, do you know what's going to happen to you if I get you to the necromancers and the apothecaries? It's worse than death to lose your soul, your free will. It's already happened to me, I know." she frowned. "Well, you get used to it eventually, the empty void in your heart that you want desperately to fill. Whether it's serving the Lich King, or the Dark Lady, or an Old God... but someday, you'll find the right master. He'll treat you well, make you into a high priest and–"

Adeiline realized in that moment she was a being a hypocrite. There was no freedom in her kind of life, just unending pain and struggle. She was a grown woman who could at least accept her fate, and among other Undead and the Horde, she had a chance at finding consolation. But how would Elfie survive? And if she allowed Zar'teaus to hurt Elfie... wasn't that the same as what the Scourge did to her own baby son many years ago?

Adeiline scooped Wisthera's baby up in her arms. Her putrid dark tears stained his skin. "Oh, I'm so sorry... but I can't betray my Master. I just can't, or it will be the end of whatever life I've got left."

The baby hugged her back, and slobbered onto her neck in a sloppy kiss. Adeiline giggled. "But..." she feared to dare speak it, "If I make it so that... they know you are okay, and maybe if they even find you..." Baby Elfie winked at Adeiline and she smiled back.

"Oh, I like you. But you'd better get less cute or creepy, and fast before I'm tempted to take you for myself." she hugged the baby Night Elf to her breast and then lay him down to sleep. "I hope they find you in time..." she whispered, then kissed Elfie on the forehead. He yawned, smoothed his little baby hand back over his long ears and face like a kitten, and then dozed off. Adeiline curled up beside him and slept well that night, for the first time in a very long time.

_The next morning..._

Shadowstep did his very best to convince Feathershine's family that they didn't need to know anything more about Shia'jin or his life. The clever rogue knew that it would only lead to their getting further involved than they needed to be.

"But Jebidiath... if he _is_ family, shouldn't we make sure that Shia'jin is alright? Troll or no?"

Shadowstep recognized the loving look Feathershine gave him. That he knew it wasn't for him, but at the very idea of mothering yet another helpless orphan-like whelp encouraged the old rogue to give up convincing her.

"I'm going to walk ahead," he announced and got away from Feathershine's family as fast as possible.

Wisthera stumbled along, leather armor drenched in sweat, but Onyxbane held her trembling hand in his large strong one. She'd become very peaceful since her boyfriend arrived. Shia'jin kept away from her, apparently still very self conscious about Onyxbane's jealousy and Wisthera's homicidal tendencies.

"So, when Wisthera wrote that you were my brother… you meant long lost… half-brother. Something like that?"

Shia'jin smiled at the Night Elf warrior warily. "Ya… my Common not be so good. Brotha' be da closest word. I would really be liar then, too. I only got sistas back home."

Opalbane walked up to catch her brother. "And your story about the Wrath of Zar'teaus makes sense… It drove me to hurt the people I loved. Feathershine and I had terrible fights when I was younger. I scared my little brother Onyxbane away from home to train in the Human lands, rejected the friendship of a harmless Human mage... then became a Twilight Cultist." she almost smiled at the terrible memories. "But you must be far worse, Shia'jin. You have to tell me! How did you get your family so angry at you, that you'd come halfway across the world by yourself to get Zar'teaus?"

Shia'jin tensed. "I… stole my…" He paused, uncomfortable. "My brotha's girlfriend. Da family hate me after that."

"Wait a minute… you said that you only had sisters?" Onyxbane challenged.

"Are you lying to us?" Opalbane asked. She reached into the Troll's mind with her Mind Vision spell, but everything came to her in Trollish. The shadowpriestess scowled. If she weren't at odds with her husband at the moment...

Shia'jin started speaking quickly. His Common began to jumble. "No, Pasha, me brotha… he mean, smelly Orc. Made him really, really angry. Rest of my family mad at me 'cause he the youngest, 'the _best _son dey ever had.'" Shia'jin mocked in a gruff Troll's voice that must have been an imitation of his father.

"There is no way that you have an Orc as a brother." Without missing a step, Onyxbane swept Wisthera off her feet like it was nothing and began carrying her. Her breathing was shallow, but they didn't have any more time to rest. Opalbane reached over and gave her sister-in-law some water.

"Pasha, da great pig breeder, be a orphan adopted from Orgrimmar." some feet ahead, one could hear Shadowstep groaning loudly. Something about 'not another orphan whelp.'

The word 'orphan' had an effect on Feathershine too. She raced ahead and got between Onyxbane and Shia'jin. "An orphan you say! How terrible! Did your family take him in? I took in Onyxbane and Opalbane after the Second War, when Mount Hyjal was destroyed."

Shia'jin frowned, and his long tusks sank near to his chest. "Ya, but dere be no crisis. Ma parents just want to fit in, since da Darkspear be like refugees in da Horde."

"Their plot is a lot like the Gnomes to the Alliance." Shadowstep put in, raising his voice so that it would carry.

"Ya..." Shia'jin agreed. "We be kicked out from all da other Trolls, now we in the Horde. My parents, like lots a other Trolls, want to fit in fast. Adopted Pasha on purpose, to show da Orcs how proud dey are to be like them. And dey also put pressure on us kids to be top raiders with epic weapons and gear... me and my family all be in da same raiding guild even. My parents used to come into Molten Core to watch us raid! Dey yelled directions from the sidelines. 'Put my son in da raid! Put my son in da raid! He be good shaman healer!' my father and motha yell to Guild Master Ninthius." he buried his face in his hands.

"Wow!" Onyxbane gasped. "That's... so horribly embarrassing. I couldn't tank like that."

"You kiddin' me mon? I couldn't heal like dat! But, oh Pasha real easy like, sittin' in da back with auto shot on. And got dat nasty pig Baby charging da Molten Giants. Phniria be a shaman too, but she much betta den me. I only went shaman 'cause of da Wrath. And her twin Shonne be a powerful mage. Den dere's Shamanatrix, Cysandra who be a priestess, her twin Kysandra, who be a fourth shaman, and we got a shadowpriest too, named Suweel..."

"Wait! You have a sister named... is her name really Shamanatrix?" Faltheriel asked.

Shia'jin peered over his shoulder. Faltheriel had raced ahead to join the conversation. Alessandre stalked some feet away, trying to look like he wasn't listening.

Shia'jin forced his gaze off the conspicuously handsome Night Elf rogue. It was like being tempted to stare at the sun. "She be da black sheep of da family. Don't ask... we not talk about her since she run away with dat creepy warrior in our guild, named Manshowda."

Everyone got quiet.

Opalbane at last spoke up, "Wait, doesn't that mean something like 'man whore' in Demon language?"

"Please... I not want to think about Shamanatrix and her bad habits..." Shia'jin cringed.

Feathershine smiled a little. "I see, so you have six sisters and one Orc brother... and it sounds like there are two sets of twins."

"Yep."

Alessandre casually stuffed his hands into his pockets. "But you said that you had only sisters. You're lying to us."

"Mmhmm." his sister-in-law and fellow rogue Wisthera drowsily agreed, snuggled up against her boyfriend's shoulder.

Shia'jin tripped over his own big feet. "Ah no... I got one brotha. He da one who wants to kill me for stealing Flathoof."

"Huh? That sounds like a Tauren name." Faltheriel screwed up his face.

Shia'jin started to get nervous. "Ya... she big... pretty Tauren." he struggled to get it out. "I liked her a lot."

"Where is she now?" Feathershine asked.

"Why so many questions! She hate me now! And Pasha stop talkin' to me. My parents mad at me for skipping so many raids, my sisters make fun of me for being da laughing stalk of the guild and da family... my life a mess!" Shia'jin tossed his hands overhead, and stopped walking.

Everyone in Feathershine's clan shared looks. Onyxbane shrugged. "A vengeful shaman who's turned his family against him and is caught up in a love triangle. If you replaced all those shaman in your family with rogues or priests, and threw in a famous lingerie saleswoman, you'd have yourself a family exactly like ours." Onyxbane glanced back at Alessandre. "He's definitely one of us Al. Don't doubt that."

Shia'jin blushed. "Ah... no lingerie salespeople... but Pasha be a leatherworker."

Faltheriel snickered. "Close enough."

"I still don't like that we are going into Grom'gol, Shia'jin. That part about you I still don't trust." Alessandre stepped forward.

Shia'jin tried very hard not to stare at Alessandre while he explained that it wasn't Grom'gol he was after, but the Zepplins there. The raptor tooth on his necklace told him that Zar'teaus was heading to a large Horde city, but it wasn't yet clear whether it was Orgrimmar or Undercity. "And I sense dat it be for a dark purpose... I don't tink Zar'teaus find any shady types in Thunderbluff or Silvermoon City."

Alessandre frowned darkly. "I'd hate to go to any of those places, really."

"Not that it really matters, mana pot. I'd take you anywhere." Faltheriel looked at Alessandre hungrily. Alessandre blanched and looked at Opalbane for support, but she'd been ignoring him since yesterday.

Wisthera hugged Onyxbane tighter and tried to sit up in his arms so she could speak. "Unless you all want to die... we need some evidence. Maybe they left a clue... and then we can figure out which way they're going." the effort of speaking exhausted her. Onyxbane made a little sad whimpering noise, and kissed his girlfriend on the forehead lovingly.

"Everyone, shut up, right now!" Shadowstep came running back from where he was scouting ahead.

"Jebidiath!"

"Shh! Unless you want to alert Grom'gol guards." Shadowstep pointed off into the distance. The tall log walls of Grom'gol Base Camp could be seen in a clearing among the jungle trees. They all looked up together when a bright purple Zepplin sailed overhead. The engine roared and sputtered as it passed. Then, a league away, it banked at the primitive landing tower within the Horde base.

"I've... I've never been on a Zepplin before, let alone the Deeprun Tram. Is it safe?" Feathershine asked Shia'jin.

"Oh ya, totally safe if you be a corpse. Gotta get past da mean Orc guards first, girly."

Feathershine looked to Shadowstep. He put a hand on his hip. "Now do you believe me, that your family is annoying, and this little excursion a dangerous undertaking? This whole thing is unnecessary! We should all go back right now, and alert the authorities about the kidnapping. Let some professionals take care of it."

Alessandre balled a fist and brandished it in Shadowstep's face. "What are you being so self-righteous for all of a sudden? This is mostly your mess old man. You caused all of this to happen, and it's time you lent a hand in cleaning it up."

Opalbane looked from Alessandre to Shadowstep curiously. "Al... what are you talking about?"

"Not a damn thing. Because if Shadowstep tells Stormwind what's going on, they're only going to ask questions. SI:7 will do a full investigation of our whereabouts and then everyone here will end up in the Stockades, for betraying the Alliance, which we _are_ for working with a Troll, and a member of the Burning Legion. And then Shadowstep will have to pull his strings in Darnassus, to break maybe one of us rogues out of jail and then we'll be in the same mess we are now, except there will only be _one_ KRN agent going after Wisthera's baby, and not three rogues and a warrior, a capable Troll who is an inside man, and three healers. I say we fix this now before wasting even more time."

Shia'jin's jaw dropped. "Man... da Alliance be prejudiced mon. Dey put you in jail just for workin' wit a Troll like me?"

All the Night Elves glared at him. "Of all the ridiculous!" Shadowstep started swearing. "The Alliance is _not _prejudiced, Shia'jin. And _you, _a Troll, whose people tend to have a seething hatred for all other races, is accusing an entire faction of prejudice? Like normal people, the Alliance simply dislikes working with monsters and evil."

Faltheriel spoke over Shadowstep then, "Even if you are trying to follow Grand Marshall Garithos' orders to the letter to send the last surviving healthy Blood Elves and their racial leader to the front lines on a suicide mission, and are by consequence, forced to trust Naga to avoid getting your royal ass killed, then get called a 'traitor to the Alliance' by the very same bastards who set you up in the first place?" Then he rolled his eyes when everyone stared, "Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider is a villain now, because of Alliance exclusion... he wasn't before. I was once a Sunfury soldier, you know. I was there when it all happened." he griped.

Shia'jin scratched his head. "If Thrall found out I was workin' wit Night Elves he'd probably jus' laugh at me and say sometin' like, 'good luck with dat mon, dey gonna kill you anyways mon."

Opalbane heated instantly. "And what about working with the Burning Legion? I'm sure Thrall would punish you for that, just like our leaders would punish us."

Shia'jin shrugged. "Dat be da whole reason why Ragefire Chasm still exist. Thrall found out da Shadow Council was holin' up dere, right under Orgrimmar, and let Neeru Fireblade keep on like nothin' was happening. Thrall even tell people to go in dere and see what's goin' on. No big deal. I knew that I hated de Alliance before meetin' you guys, but dat is real unfair mon. You all should be Horde in your next lives."

Priestess Feathershine growled. "This conversation has gone beyond useless. The Alliance is a noble confederation of proud kingdoms of many races who work together and accept each other. That Grand Marshall Garithos incident involving Prince Kael'thas was isolated, and furthermore, who works with Naga anyways? The Alliance are simply people who do not tolerate evil in any measure. And you're Horde Shia'jin. You of all people have no right to judge us!" The Priestess of Elune blushed at her outburst of rage. "Um, what I meant to say was... well... I'm sure the Horde is–"

"It be like a family mon. I dated a Tauren, got a little... err... brotha who be an Orc, and an Undead firemage be the boss of my raiding guild. Maybe we be ugly, but we all ugly together. Been dat way _before_ the Blood Elves joined." he scrutinized Faltheriel.

The love and hate for their factions swelled up in the silence that followed. Shia'jin crouched low and flexed his fingers, then cracked his knuckles. Onyxbane hefted his girlfriend tighter in his strong arms and cracked his neck. Alessandre lay a steady hand on his rapier.

"I got Grom'gol Base Camp behind me. What you got?" he snarled at Alessandre.

"Gotta run there first." Alessandre smirked at Shia'jin. Opalbane smiled at her husband and set her shadowform ablaze. Wisthera's weakened hand found its way down into her boot, where she clearly fingered some kind of small concealed dagger. It wasn't hard for Faltheriel to choose sides. He took a large step back, behind Alessandre.

Shadowstep looked at Feathershine over the heads of everyone else. Her eyes pleaded with him, to step in, to use his Master Rogue talents again to save them all...

"Now do you understand, Deliah? I'm right. Sometimes you have to be manipulative and mean. It's the way things have to be done."

The Priestess of Elune bowed her head. "Perhaps... I was wrong about you." she admitted.

Shadowstep got imbetween the two male Night Elves and the Troll. "I found these." he opened his palm and showed them the two crooked, deteriorating raptor teeth.

"Dose be Zar'teaus' teeth, and they fresh from his mouth! Where you find them?"

"If you all calm down first..." he waited. Shadowstep knew that he'd forced them into a ceasefire. Onyxbane relaxed. Alessandre shifted into his cat form and curled up into a ball, started licking his paws to distract himself. Shadowstep continued. "Over there. A camp was made just outside Grom'gol, last night. The strange Human-like tracks I didn't fully recognize, but the tiny elven feet..." he glanced at Wisthera to make sure she was paying attention. "Clearly belong to the baby."

Wisthera struggled and Onyxbane let her down. "My son! My little baby is still alive! Thank Elune... and walking already? But that should be impossible!"

Opalbane thought about this. "They are doing something to him... enhancing him somehow. Fel magic is the only thing I know of that could empower someone so fast. They gave fel capsules to the Old Gods in Silithus when I was there. It restores a lot of their lost power."

"Oh, but Opalbane! They wouldn't... they _couldn't_ give that to a baby..."

"Oh Feathershine! Stop being so naive about everything!" Opalbane retorted.

Shadowstep took Faltheriel aside while the two Night Elf priests started to argue. "You know about these things better than I do, I'll admit. What do you think is going on, Blood Elf?"

Faltheriel scratched his chin, then tossed a long blonde lock over his shoulder. "I'd have to guess necromancy." Without asking permission, he took the raptor teeth from Shadowstep and inspected them. "This is unlike the tooth Shia'jin wears around his neck. It's a fresher sample, but far more deteriorated than whatever relic his family has been keeping for untold generations. Zar'teaus is losing strength fast these days, but giving strength to a baby. I fear... I fear that he wants the child for himself."

"For what, Faltheriel! I don't follow you."

"Gonna eat him?" Shia'jin sneaked over and joined their muffled conversation. The others were starting to fight loudly again.

"No." Faltheriel said. "It seems Zar'teaus is hoping to put himself inside that child's body. And, my dear Troll friend, would you happen to know of anyone in the Horde capable of manipulating the flesh like that, capable of unthinkable torture, skilled at alchemical endeavors or necromancy, the kind of twisted minds that would hatch a new plague?"

As the Master Rogue, Shadowstep thought he knew everything about the Forsaken. He was outraged at the news.

Shia'jin shrank under his gaze. "Dat be de Royal Apothecary Society, mon, in Undercity. Guess that's the Zepplin we want."

Shadowstep wanted to attack the Troll on the spot, to take what he'd learned about the Undead and their new plague straight back to Darnassus... but he would get the edge on the Forsaken at the expense of Wisthera's baby, Feathershine's grandson. That was the old him, the Jebidiath Shadowstep who'd lost the woman he loved. Shadowstep made himself calm down.

"It would seem that the Alliance is right about your kind, and the Horde is in fact, evil." he stalked away.

Shadowstep once more yelled orders for the others to stop arguing, with Grom'gol so close by. That left the Blood Elf and the Troll alone.

"Don't look at me like dat mon. You be a Blood Elf. Your people no better than da Forsaken, or da Trolls, da Tauren, or da Orcs. Da Horde is what it is."

Faltheriel smiled at him. "That's not the look I'm giving you handsome. And, before you recoil, might I ask... what self-respecting Troll man absconds with a pretty delirious Night Elf woman and doesn't even _try_ to sleep with her, hmm? And this brother Pasha of yours... that's a girl's name, if I know my Orcish."

"Don't go pokin' where it ain't your business!" Shia'jin snarled.

Fatheriel started to leave. "Fine, you don't like me. But, if you insist on ogling my Alessandre, you should ask me first, or at least his wife. Or, could that be the source of your family problems, that they didn't like it when their star daughter got her heart broken... by their gay son."

Shia'jin grabbed Faltheriel's arm. "Don't tell anyone!" he whispered. "When I kill Zar'teaus, I can end the Curse... den my family will accept me."

The Blood Elf rolled his eyes. "It's hard coming out of the closet, isn't it? But it's no curse my friend. It's who you are. You should accept that about yourself. What chance does your family even have, if you don't try?" Then he snatched his elegant red sleeve away, and rejoined the others.

Shia'jin tried to separate himself from the ones around him, to forget about the jungle heat, and remember a place that felt peaceful, welcoming. The Troll felt the Wrath build inside of him like a storm as he searched back through his mind... the hut his family kept in Sen'jin Village never felt like home. His raiding guildmates didn't know the real him, and he had no clue if he'd still be welcome in the meeting house in Orgrimmar if he ever faced them again... there was no rise in Thunderbluff that he didn't feel conscious of people staring at he and Flathoof, nor did the taverns in Silvermoon City ever feel completely safe. And Undercity, that was no place to take the man you cared about.

Shia'jin had tried everything he could think of to keep he and Flathoof together, but in the end it was his own fault that they didn't make it. The guilt of having betrayed Pasha, his discomfort nearly everywhere they went... and that he refused to tell his family about them... Flathoof got sick of all the lies and left Shia'jin for good, left the guild when people started to talk.

And now his parents were furious with him for hurting his sister, though Pasha was too much of an Orc to admit to them exactly what the problem was. Maybe she told them by now? Maybe the entire raiding guild also knew...

Shia'jin hoped that he could get rid of Zar'teaus fast before he found out just how much the people he loved hated him. The thought of his family rejecting him was too painful to bear. He needed that Old God dead, more than anyone else. Even if Shia'jin had to trust Night Elves to do it... whatever it took to get revenge at last.

The storm inside the Troll shaman erupted. Chain lightning exploded from his palms, ripped through trees, leapt up into the canopy and danced among the branches, catching heavy green laden boughs on fire.

The Night Elves ducked and cried out.

Shia'jin looked at them. Loud crackling balls of lightning pulsed and grew as they rotated around him. One could hardly see the Troll for all the lightning. The ground at his feet smoked.

"Dat be why... I not elemental shaman." Shia'jin walked away, dejected. "Da Wrath make it too easy to be a monster and hurt people."

Author's Note:

Next episode... **Night Elves on a Zepplin!**


	18. Night Elves on a Zepplin!

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Eighteen: Night Elves on a Zepplin**

"Shia'jin, I don't know about this…" Opalbane's muffled voice came from the behind the fierce Orange War Raptor. Shia'jin's mount looked fearsome in his black feathered armor and sharp claws that clacked against the ground. The tiny covered melon cart the Troll hitched to the beast was incredibly conspicuous though.

"It gonna' work, girly. Trust me." His eyes darted to Alessandre who was frowning at him, but he shifted his gaze back, quick, when Faltheriel put his hands on his hips.

"It's not all that bad, Opalbane dear. I think the Troll came up with a clever disguise for us. Onyxbane, when was the last time you shaved? That stubble is so unbecoming in the presence of ladies."

"Ow! Onyxbane, your big ass axe is poking me. Move!"

Onyxbane could be heard grumbling over the two women nagging him. "I left Teldrassil for a reason, you know. I didn't expect to have two priestesses breathing down my neck again so soon…"

"Ten years is not a short period of time, Onyxbane." Priestess Feathershine admonished.

"It's not long enough, I tell you!" Onyxbane screeched in a nervous boyish voice that he probably hadn't used since his traumatized childhood with the crazy Opalbane and overbearing Feathershine.

Shadowstep strode up to Shia'jin and discreetly asked him, "What if they want melons?"

Shia'jin honestly hadn't considered that.

Wisthera had benefited from an afternoon of being carried by her boyfriend. She chuckled at Shadowstep's sly joke before stealthing. Alessandre took one last look at his wife in the overstuffed melon cart and cloaked as well, after a heavy sigh. Ever wary, Shadowstep was the last to hide himself.

Shia'jin reached up and grabbed the reigns of Thunda. "You be ready, mon?"

Faltheriel straightened his red robes. "I've blended into Horde society—if you can call it that—before."

"But right now, you look too dangerous to be an average Blood Elf. Can't you do sometin' about them dark rings around your eyes? The pallid skin… or dat strange black aura jumpin' off you body?"

Faltheriel stopped Shia'jin short. "You… I have rings around my eyes? Bad skin? Have I got wrinkles too? Tell me, honestly!"

"Oh, for Elune's sake—" Shadowstep griped loudly but Faltheriel shushed him.

Shia'jin just stared at Faltheriel, a grin growing between his two long white tusks.

"Oh, you!" he slapped Shia'jin's shoulder playfully. "You really had me going there…" then he smiled wistfully. "Not many people can get me flustered like that."

"Can we PLEASE get moving!" Onyxbane mumbled from where he was trapped in the supposed melon cart. Where Shia'jin had found it, and how he'd wrenched it out of the Venture Co. operation was anyone's guess. None of the Night Elves wanted to know.

Shia'jin smiled at Faltheriel briefly. "But I'm serious 'bout the aura mon. I'm a shaman. I can see spirits… and that fel magic be blinding. Can't you do sometin' to make you look less… evil?"

Faltheriel pouted. "Oh, you're no fun, though it seems that fel lotion I bought back in Silithus works. It's a new thing among cultists. Only the most dangerous types of people can sense it… kind of like cologne for villains. You like?"

"Do I have to kill one of you?" Alessandre flared.

Both Faltheriel and Shia'jin frowned. "We talk more about it later… but yes, it be… sort of…"

Faltheriel feared the gay Troll would never manage to compliment him in front of other people.

"… ah… maybe you let me borrow some?"

Faltheriel sighed at the neutral comment. _I'll rub some on you later. _ He told Shia'jin in his head, and he almost tripped over his two big blue feet. Again.

The Burning Legion Ranger summoned the last of his pets, an especially tiny red imp he called Impsy.

"Eee!" Impsy squealed with glee and hopped into Faltheriel's hand. Then the Blood Elf carefully put the tiny demon on his shoulder. "Master Faltheriel! So happy to see you again! Where are we going, what are we doing? Huh? Huh?"

Faltheriel smiled at Impsy and started out towards Grom'gol again. "I assume this is better? If they have any questions about my character, I'll just let them think I'm a warlock."

Wisthera whispered to Alessandre as she passed, "That Blood Elf is all kinds of crazy… how did he go from having a homicidal succubus to an adorable hyper imp pet?"

Alessandre shrugged. "Beats me."

"Speaking of beatings… you aren't really going to sleep with that are you?" Wisthera asked.

Shadowstep was nearby and they didn't know it. He started laughing heartily at Alessandre's expense. "Good one, agent Wisthera." Wisthera winked at their leader.

"I swear, if I become the next Master Rogue…" Alessandre mumbled to himself, and the other two rogues kept laughing.

Shia'jin casually walked up to the gate, and everything looked fine until Faltheriel snatched his hand.

"What you doin' mon!"

"We're a couple. That's our cloak."

"Cloak?"

"Have you never done spywork? Sheesh. Just let me do all the talking."

"Look here, you pointy-eared freak of nature—"

"Well hallo there, fellow Horde! My boyfriend and are I just passing through, selling our melons. Would you like some? Fresh from Eversong Woods."

The two Orcs in green armor looked at each other. "Uh… hello… you say you're selling mellons? How much?" the taller one asked.

Faltheriel dropped Shia'jin's hand and walked to the back of the cart. Shadowstep swore up a storm while stealthed beside him, but the Blood Elf ignored it. "Well, they aren't cheap, seeing that my adorable totem-treat and I brought them all the way down through the Eastern Plaguelands, the Searing Gorge, Darkshire, and the Sun knows what else, just to appease Orcish appetites. I'd say three gold for a little one. By the way, do you mind if they're soggy?"

"Why would they be soggy—" the other guard asked and his companion reached out and held him back from inspecting the cart.

"Mister, I know that you just joined the Horde and all, but we have Zepplins that go from Undercity, which is connected to Silvermoon City by an orb of somesuch, and then dock right here. I'm sorry, but you just wasted your time and your mellons… no one in Orgrimmar is going to pay for rancid merchandise. Didn't the Troll tell you?"

Shia'jin shifted uncomfortably under the Orcs' gaze. "Ahh… he be… very uh… you see I—"

"I distract him far too much, I'm afraid." Faltheriel jumped in. "And I suppose that my big, strong sham-man is right." He sighed, "I have a great deal of blonde moments."

Shia'jin was greatly disturbed by Faltheriel's sudden nicknames. Also, how had he manufactured an entire relationship for them in mere moments? The way the Orc guards stared at the two of them, ready to laugh made him nervous, made him angry. He wanted to run and hide…

"You two are all bonkers." They parted to let them pass. "Welcome to Grom'gol. And… just in case you get distracted again," the tall one grabbed hold of Shia'jin's shoulder gruffly as he passed. Shia'jin swallowed as Wisthera crept by him in stealth. Did she stumble in her state and brush up against the guard too? "I'm reminding you right now that there's a Zepplin to Orgrimmar at the top of that Tower."

Shia'jin thanked the man and forced himself to walk away calmly.

"Crazy Blood Elves… too pretty for their own good. You know, I know quite a few good Orcs and Trolls that got themselves ruined over a Blonde Thalassian…" the two Orcs joked to themselves as Shia'jin and Faltheriel departed.

"They not makin' fun of us?" Shia'jin asked Faltheriel while the more lucid Blood Elf handed Thunda off to the stable master, and raised one side of the cart.

"I'm too pretty to do this alone." He raised an eyebrow at Shia'jin who remembered exactly how heavy the cart was and why. They slowly made their way up the ramp to the Flight Tower above the inn.

When they were again alone, Faltheriel whispered to him, "I didn't work any magic back there, totem-treat. You can't control what people think or say about you. You can't control it when people reject you or are mean to you. All the more reason to be honest about who you are and sort out the nice ones from the meanies, right up front."

"But what if they were really rude to us, Faltheriel! Orcs can be very mean." He seemed to speak from experience.

"Sweetie, you shouldn't worry about those kinds of things. Even if they hated us, they would have still let us pass, because our cloak was so good. No one in Grom'gol is going to bug us about buying melons now. And besides… maybe my hand would have slipped a little and the tall one would've gotten a Seed of Corruption cast into his soul. But that's only if he turned out to be a really, really, really, big bitch about us." the Blood Elf's eyes wandered as he spoke.

"Why hello, there, ladies." Faltheriel flashed two curious Bloodknights a charming smile after hardly finishing his sentence.

"Hey! I thought you were… you're supposed to be with me!" Shia'jin sputtered.

Faltheriel chuckled at Shia'jin. "Oh you…not now, Shia'jin." He whispered.

The one with bright red hair cut close to her jaw tossed her head at them and folded her arms across her chest. She carried a silver shield and wore dark green armor that looked to be made of Fel Iron. "Who's the weirdo?"

Faltheriel waved Shia'jin off. "Oh, he's just someone I know…"

The red-head pushed a bang from over her eye, and gave Faltheriel a curious look. The crimson lock fell right back into place over her right eye. The woman with her was a brunette carrying a gigantic violet mace and colorful shield. She looked just as unimpressed.

"This be Faltheriel, a friend." Shia'jin glared at his now undercover, undercover boyfriend. "Faltheriel, dis be Tempestraven," he indicated the redhead using a hand that had only three stubby Troll fingers, "And Viviendo. Dey be Bloodknights from my guild."

Before Faltheriel could say anything else dangerous, Tempestraven spoke up. "Ninthius is angry at you, did you know that? We really could have used you healing in Kara the other night. Vivi and I got stuck on different nights, and everyone knows that Binah is no kind of healer. Respecced from feral, my ass. I'm gonna' hunt down the very druid trainer she's seeing, bribe him to find out what spec she's really got these days." Tempestraven snorted aristocratically at the end.

Viviendo grinned at her good buddy Tempestraven. "Yea, Shia'jin you are very much wanted back at the old clubhouse. Did you know that Flathoof left? He posted his goodbye on the message board, like days ago."

"I know he left! Everyone knows! That be why_ I_ left!"

Faltheriel stopped looking confused and let his eyes wander to Alessandre who stood nearby in stealth. Wisthera sat, exhausted against his leg.

Viviendo waggled a finger at Shia'jin. "Alright, but you better be careful. You know what happens if you get Ninthy mad."

"Minus Fifty DKP." They all said together.

"What's DKP?" Faltheriel asked.

Shia'jin got mad instantly. "It's just raider talk, not interesting to you!" He stomped off to stand on a different platform by himself.

After a moment of awkward silence between the three Blood Elves, Faltheriel dared flirt again, "Don't I know you two lovely ladies from somewhere?"

Tempestraven and Viviendo tensed. Unbeknownst to Shia'jin or anyone else in their raiding guild, the two were living under aliases. Thelma, the redhead, had failed to pull off a bank heist in Undermine with Viviendo, who was once known as Louise Firebrand. To escape the authorities the two faked their deaths by jumping off the cliff of Undermine into the ocean on matching blue Hawkstriders. It was easy to catch up later in Silvermoon City after the Blood Elves joined the Horde, even easier for the brunette "Tempestraven" to get hold of a red wig and the red-headed "Viviendo" to start wearing a brunette one. And after that, it was like nothing to re-roll as Bloodknights. Everyone else was doing it anyways.

The problem here was… did Faltheriel know them from their Undermine heist days?

The two Bloodknights did what they always did when men came by and hassled them.

Faltheriel watched, miffed, as two golden Divine Shields popped into view and the glowing green aura of synched hearthstones grew between their conjuring hands. Then, the two paladins disappeared.

"Ha! That is hands-down the worst rejection I've ever seen." Alessandre whispered to Faltheriel.

The Burning Legion Ranger had turned red. "Mind saying that to me from behind tonight? Because my patience with you is growing very short, sexy mana."

The Goblin Zepplin Master, Zepetta looked wide-eyed up at Faltheriel, and then took two huge steps to the right, nearly walking right off the platform. Faltheriel seethed and put his hands on his hips.

_A few hours later, on the Zepplin…_

No one ever goes below deck on the Zepplin. Any Alliance who's ever sneaked onto the flying airship to raid Orgrimmar will assure you it's the fumes smell that keeps the Horde abovedeck.

This made all the Night Elves comfortable enough to decloak and spread out downstairs. They figured that they could always shadowmeld in an emergency.

"Onyxbane?" Wisthera snuggled up to her boyfriend. He had been dosing off. Hopefully this was because of the long trip, or carrying his girlfriend in the heat all day yesterday with no rest, and not because of the fumes. "Can I ask you something… and you have to swear to tell me the truth. I don't know if I could bear for you to lie to me about this."

Onyxbane reached back and scratched his neck. The others were across the room, slowly getting into another argument, as expected. Shadowstep brooded to himself in a shadowed corner.

"What is it, Sara?"

"Is the reason why you won't marry me… because you think I'll a bad mother? Don't be afraid to tell the truth; I'm a big girl, I can take it."

Onyxbane sat up straighter. "What? Why would you think that?"

"I knew it! When we first met, I lied to you about who I truly was, that I was the con artist who swindled your sister out of money for years in exchange for the Archmage's stolen ring, the reason why the Stormwind Guard were after her. And then I got you away from that stupid Willypearl by being devious again… thankfully, you forgave me. But, after living together for hardly a year, I fall right off the straight and narrow again to con Alessandre, and then…" she started to cry. "And then I lose our baby! I'm such a horrible person… I know what you're about to say, that it isn't my fault! But I tell you, it is! Feathershine was right about me! I don't deserve you Onyx, and fate has caught up with me finally, to punish me for all the horrible things I did to people over the years. First I screw up Opalbane's life, turn King Magni Bronzebeard against Alessandre, and—"

"Wisthera! Calm down." Onyxbane pried her hands away from the throwing knife she kept in her tall black leather boot. He had her normal set of daggers for safekeeping. "Look at me." She struggled in his arms, eyes shut underneath beautiful ivy green markings that made her face look alluring, mysterious. Perfect for a rogue, perfect for his beautiful Wisthera. Eventually, his voice made her calm. "Now, I am not going to let you go through all the mean things you've done to people in the past. And, besides, fate doesn't work that way. Elune doesn't work that way. Oh, and another thing, don't you dare take stock in anything that my foster mother says. Feathershine is a nice person, but she blows her own kind of hot air from time to time. I mean, look at what it did to Opalbane."

Shia'jin was frantically shushing the angry shadowpriestess who was now arguing loudly with her foster mother about whether the Light or the Shadow made better priests.

Wisthera sniffled. "But I don't understand… why are you hesitating? I've practically begged you to make me your wife countless times. You must know that I would never reject you. I would have conned you into it a while ago, so many viable opportunities presented themselves… but I promised you that I wouldn't con someone again, not without telling you first. And that kind of defeats the purpose."

Onyxbane smiled a little. "Sara, it's not you… it's me. Ever since I met you, I was like, 'Wow, she's so hot.' At first, it was, 'Wow, she's soo hot, I wonder if she'll still be here in the morning.' And you stayed. And then, it was, 'Wow, she's soo hot, I wonder if she'll accept my Wreathe.' And… well, the Stormwind Guard found you and threw you in the Stockades, but I figured that out later. And then while we were on the boat to Silithus to save Opalbane, I was like, 'Wow, she's sooo hot. I wonder if I'm making the biggest mistake of my life, dating Willypearl when she still wants to be with me.' And you know what? I was so angry at you for hurting my sister… I couldn't see right from wrong in that situation. But you were clever and made me see, fast, before I could really screw things up for us. Finally, I asked you to wear my Wreathe after all that was settled, and you did."

Wisthera bit her lip. "Oh, Onyx…"

"And then I found out that you were four months pregnant with our son, and I was like, 'Wow, she's soo hot… even pregnant. And I bet she's going to be a hot mom too. Man, I'm lucky.'" He put her hands together in his own and kissed them. "To be honest, Sara, I wouldn't be so down on myself for conning people, if I were you. When I found out you were pregnant, I was secretly overjoyed. You see, I'd prayed to Elune that very night before I met you in that shady bar in the Burning Steppes. I was really upset about my sister and the person who hurt her. I begged Elune to give me a chance to get real revenge on the person, so I could show them what the love of a little brother is like. I hated the person that I thought had toyed with Opalbane. It consumed me, and I wanted them to feel my wrath… And, as we both now know, I got you pregnant that first night we slept together. It was like I played the ultimate con on you. I tricked you into staying with me from the very beginning, by asking for Elune to let me love someone so much that it hurt, and… well, me knocking you up helped too." He smiled.

Wisthera grinned as well. "How am I so lucky… wait! That doesn't explain why you won't marry me."

Onyxbane rolled his large shoulders uncomfortably. "Err… I was getting to that. I guess that what my sister has been saying all these years is true. I'm a meathead. You're so pretty and smart… I was sure you'd say no if you asked me. And I also get scared when you get angry with me, so I was even more afraid to try. Or, I figured… if you'd said yes, you'd be secretly resentful because I couldn't give you the life you deserved. I'm not sure if you've noticed but… I'm really poor."

Wisthera sighed. "I suppose that… we suffer from the same problem that Faltheriel talked about earlier. I'm so beautiful that I distract you, Onyxbane. And, as a warrior, you tend to have blonde moments."

They hugged each other tight.

"So when's the wedding?" Wisthera slyly asked next.

Onyxbane pulled away from her. "You know what? Let's do it right here, right now."

"On a Zepplin to Undercity? Are you crazy?"

"I'm finally offering to marry you, and you're going to object? Besides, we both need to do this, for little Reaper."

Wisthera's expression went from jubilation to disapproval. "I thought we discussed that wouldn't be his name…"

"Please, Sara. I need that to be his name, at least for now. With all the danger our son is in, I can't bear to think of him as anyone less than a brave, Arcanite Reaper-weilding fury warrior like me… I'm begging you to just let me have this."

Wisthera scratched her cheek idly. "Well… alright. It kind of makes me feel better too, to think of my son as someone who is as tough as arcanite."

They both stood and joined hands, feeling joyful for the first time since leaving Darkshire. "You'll see… we'll get married and feel even stronger, for Reaper. Now, let's get Feathershine over here and—"

"No! Not the Priestess of Elune." Wisthera snarled. "She's such a self-righteous hypocrite… she hated me up until she found out I was giving her a grandchild. Have your sister do it."

And across the ship, Feathershine sat down next to Shadowstep and whispered, "Aren't they cute, Shadowstep?" she nodded towards Wisthera and Onyxbane holding hands. "And to think that I hated her with my son up until a few months ago, when I found out she was giving me a grandchild."

Wisthera is right about most things, you see.

Onyxbane looked into the eyes of the woman he loved. "Alright. In fact, it might be really nice. We met because Opalbane was in danger and lost, and now she's safe. In fact, she's right here in this room. It'll be like coming full circle."

The couple walked toward the smoky shadowpriestess. Alessandre was on his knees begging her to forgive him. When Onyxbane came over and explained why he was smiling, Opalbane's hands flew up over her mouth. She cried and thanked Elune.

_Above deck…_

Two Orcs, a Tauren, a female Troll, and a handful of Blood Elves stopped what they were doing.

"Did you… hear somethin' mon?" the green-haired Troll woman asked an Orc.

The Orc froze, and looked around himself. "I dunno… it sounded like someone shadowmelded!"

"Ack! Night Elves!" A pale Blood Elf man fretted, but his friend urged him to calm down.

"Jake, there are no Night Elves on the Zepplin. How would they even sneak on with all the Steamwheedle Bruisers…"

"There it is again!" the Troll squealed. "Feels like it's right ontop of me! If this is about that snack that Undead woman had in the inn…"

There were three hunters among the Horde passengers. Each tossed up a flare in a separate direction.

"I still hear it…" the Troll whined.

"And now I hear something else… prayers to a benign god? Did someone say Elune?" The Blood Elves looked at each other.

The Tauren stuffed his big thumb in his mouth. "I don't like this game… someone let me off the Zepplin!" He ran to the bow and stood on the very edge, ready to jump off as soon as they landed.

An Orc warrior stepped forward. "Look, are we Horde or are we Horde? If there's Alliance on this ship, it is our sworn duty to find it and kill it." He waved them over to the stairs below deck. "It must be… down there." His voice got spooky at the end. One by one, the Horde people crept down below deck, terrified of what they might find. The warrior reached out, put his hand on the knob to the back room… slowly opened it.

"Uden von el'krasg, nimmel urd uden Elune." A Night Elf priestess in full blazing shadowform said to a Night Elf warrior holding the hand of a female Night Elf rogue with long green hair. She bounced up on her toes, giddy. They were flanked by a Night Elf Druid in purple Nightsaber form, a rose-skinned Priestess of Elune who looked angry, and a male Blood Elf and Troll who stood conspicuously close… too close together to be 'just friends.'

"Night Elves! On the Zepplin!" The Horde passengers started screaming. They were ready to charge in, but someone shouted that there might be a rogue. Wherever there were Alliance, there was always a stealthed Night Elf rogue.

Shadowstep, of course, was crouched behind Feathershine in stealth, both golden Grand Marshall blades drawn. You see? The Horde aren't paranoid or cowards… they just have a sixth sense when the odds are always more than likely against them.

"Do we… umm… attack?" the frenzied Tauren asked.

Faltheriel stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Umm… are you slack-jawed yokels just going to stand there? We _are_ kind of in the middle of a wedding." He sounded very annoyed.

Blood Elves are great at convincing other members of the Horde that they are way off their social cues, to the point of being beyond reason.

But, to be on the safe side, everyone shadowmelded too.

"I don't see no Night Elves, mon?" Shia'jin tried next.

The Horde passengers slowly retreated back upstairs. "Well, it could we worse. We could be in the middle of Crossroads right now." One of them shrugged. That was pretty much the disturbed consensus.

"Well, what's your answer, Wisthera?" Opalbane asked, once they were again safe.

"I do! With all my heart, I do!" she leaped up onto Onyxbane and covered his face with kisses. The strong warrior was happy to carry her weight, and held her close for as long as the rogue needed to reassure herself that her warrior love, was at last, her husband.

"I now pronounce you…"

"By Elune! Why do we keep having weddings! And another set of orphan whelps! I can't take this anymore!" Shadowstep shouted angrily.

Priestess Feathershine came out of her jealous snarling long enough to shush him. Then she mumbled. "How dare they choose a shadowpriestess over me to marry them. The very idea!"

Everyone just ignored the bitter old couple. "…Husband and wife." Opalbane smiled and hugged her brother and Wisthera. Alessandre shifted back into his rogue form hugged his wife. Faltheriel rushed in and hugged Alessandre. Shia'jin ground a shy toe into the floor as he watched his Night Elf family celebrate from afar.

"Get in here, you big blue Troll!" Wisthera nearly sang to him, she was so happy.

Everyone was so excited, or distraught, that they almost forgot to deboard the Zepplin when it landed.

"Awww! How we land in Orgrimmar!" Shia'jin said when he got on deck first. He smacked his forehead. "Gah! I take da wrong Zepplin."

Some yards away, Pasha the Orc huntress was racing to catch the Zepplin to Undercity on her fast epic wolf mount. Baby the pig trailed behind. He was incredibly large and fat to be a hunter's pet. And Baby's pet pig—Pasha loved being a hunter so much, she had pets for all her pets. Shedevil had a pet Worg puppy, and Reina had a squishy little green spider… well, you get the idea—was succeeded by Mr. Wiggles. The three of them leaned in for the final charge as they ducked under the roof of the Flight Tower just outside Orgrimmar.

"Come on, Baby! I can't carry you everywhere, you know." Pasha grunted. "Hold the Zepplin!" she called to the blue Troll shaman who was screaming at a bunch of people to hurry onto the departing ship to Undercity.

Pasha missed the Zepplin because she realized that it was her brother ushering a pack of Night Elves onto the ship.

Pasha missed the Zepplin because she remembered just how much she hated her brother for what he did to she and Flathoof, in front of the entire guild.

"When's the next Zepplin to Undercity leaving?" she growled and asked the frustrated Steamwheedle Cartel guards who weren't expecting a whole slew of Night Elves to rush off the freshly landed Zepplin from Grom'gol and onto the quickly departing ship to Undercity.

"Bout an hour, tops."

Pasha's green knuckles went red as she gripped the butt of her rifle many people referred to as the Dwarven Hand Cannon. Baby the pig had picked up Shia'jin's scent and made a little squealing warcry for the both of them.

"Alright, so my revenge is a little bit delayed." The female Orc rolled her shoulders, and shook her messy mane of dark blue hair. "But it gives me enough time to buy some more bullets." Then, without thinking, she cocked her gun, and pointed it at it the Zepplin after it circled and zipped past the tower again to cross the Great Sea.

"Hey! What are you doing! You can't shoot down a Zepplin!" the guards shouted at her.

Pasha grimaced. "Don't need to hit the Zepplin… I just need one aimed shot at my good for nothing brother… in his lying, cheating, man-loving face!"

Lucky for Shia'jin, the Zepplin sailed out of range at the last moment.

Faltheriel tapped the poor Troll on the shoulder. "You have a… you know, one of those… things over your head."

Shia'jin looked up to see a blaring red Hunter's Mark hovering above his head.

"Awww crap."

"Pasha?"

"Yes…" he exhaled angrily. "Dat be Pasha, apple of my parents' eye."

"At least she gave you a warning first." Faltheriel whispered to Shia'jin comfortingly.

"A debuff is not a warning, Faltheriel." Shadowstep calmly observed as he passed by on his way belowdeck. He raised a green eyebrow. "It means that you are, finally and eternally screwed by the person who gave it to you in the first place." Then Shadowstep grumbled under his breath, "But what the hell do I care if you die? As long as there aren't any more damn weddings on this trip…"


	19. Incest kind of saves the day twice!

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Chapter Nineteen: Incest kind of saves the day… twice! (cringes)  
**

In the eerie quiet of Silverpine forest, Shadowstep sat up from where he crouched nearby the campfire. Feathershine's clan of annoying family members fell quiet, as they sensed the Master Rogue was about to set them straight once again. He was now, undisputedly, their leader when so much was at stake.

"This is how it's going to go down." He told them in a threatening voice. "You." He pointed at Shia'jin, "Take Alessandre and myself into the Undercity."

"But I'm his mother!" Wisthera shouted.

Shadowstep pointed a finger at her, and she fell quiet. "You aren't well, and you could compromise the whole mission. You will wait at the exit to the Sewers with everyone else." Shadowstep looked at Faltheriel. "Maybe you slipped by Orc guards before, but these people have experience with Lich Kings, the Scourge, and maybe even the Burning Legion. I don't think you should risk any Undead recognizing your powers."

Impsy did a somersault on his master's shoulder and began chattering in his ear. "Fine, I accept. Impsy just reminded me that capturing Zar'teaus will require activating certain Burning Legion magic on my part… I wouldn't be able to go with you anyway."

Shadowstep looked at Onyxbane, Feathershine, and Opalbane. "The three of you are to wait just outside the Sewers with Wisthera. Assist us when we escape that way."

_And restrain Wisthera while we're waiting?_ Feathershine used her Mind Vision spell to inquire in Shadowstep's mind. He gave her a little smile.

"That's my girl," he whispered to himself under his breath.

"Zar'teaus is going to chase us, Faltheriel. You can intercept him when we get into the Sewers and he's trapped. Think you can handle it?"

Faltheriel tapped a finger against his lips. "Umm… lemme see… no." he glared at Alessandre. "You were supposed to sleep with me, and you haven't yet. I'm not helping you all with Zar'teaus until I get what I'm owed."

"You are NOT going to sleep with my husband, Faltheriel!" Opalbane flared.

"Am too! I'll take him by force if I have to."

Alessandre jumped to his feet. "Gaah! No one is raping me! Stop talking about it!"

"Children, please," Feathershine attempted diplomacy.

"Be quiet mother! This is all your fault anyway! I would have never met Faltheriel if you hadn't alienated me for my entire life. I felt like I _had_ to recover in Stormwind."

Feathershine turned red and finally lost it. "You ungrateful, spoiled, orphan whelp! I gave up my life as a single woman to raise you and your brother. I gave you all the love I had in my heart, even forsaking the one man that I truly wanted… I begged you to become a Priestess of Elune because I was worried about you. How could I possibly know about this curse of yours… I was doing what came naturally to any mother. And after all the mental anguish you put me through, you seem to forget who loved you, and risked her life, her career, and her reputation for you when suddenly Opalbane 'the ever trodden on' gets angry! Do you know who _hired_ Alessandre to protect you in Stormwind? Do you know whose fault it is that you are madly in love with, arguably, the most beautiful man in Azeroth? Mine! It was _my _idea!"

Everyone was astounded at Feathershine's selfish outburst.

"Wisthera conned you into it, though!" Opalbane angrily defended herself.

Feathershine looked at the wily rogue woman, shocked, "I should have known… but even if that was the case, who raised the man that Wisthera fell in love with? Who showed clemency and took her along to Silithus to find your sulking, pretentious butt after you ran away from attacking Stormwind Guards! I ensured that Wisthera served her sentence and was freed afterwards. And while I'm at it… The very idea! Who attacks Stormwind Guards! You are Alliance, Opalbane. Did it ever occur to you that they just wanted to ask questions?" Feathershine's eyes darted, searchingly, as she considered it all. "Were you drunk at the time?"

Opalbane opened her mouth to say something but stopped.

"I knew it! I nearly ruined my life running after you children and cleaning up your messes. Well, I'm sick of it!" Feathershine got up from the fire, and made a show of wiping her hands clean. "You all are _alive_ because of me. You are married and happy because of me. You have the smallest sliver of respect for the Light because of me. Opalbane, you aren't a Twilight Cultist because of me. Onyxbane, you are no longer a pervert because of me, Wisthera is no longer a con artist thanks to my intervention… And Alessandre you—"

Shadowstep waved his arms for her to stop, and Feathershine refrained from revealing his secret regarding the cover up in Stormwind. "Well, do I get a 'thank you Feathershine, for being so helpful', or a Mother's Day present, or anything? No. Do you know what I was doing on _my _Mother's Day more than a month ago?"

The young people shared terrified looks. None of them had ever seen Feathershine this angry. Shadowstep had a strange smile growing on his face.

"I was with my boyfriend, the love of my life, having an argument over whether or not my fussing over you children was a waste of time. And you know what, I'm beginning to agree with him. I can see why he went so far to woo me…" she started breathing rapidly, and laughed at her plight. "In fact, maybe in his shoes I would have done the same. I was acting like a crazy woman. And even High Priestess Tyrande warned me that I was getting too involved in other people's lives, getting obsessed. You'd think that between the man I love and the woman I idolize, I would have listened to at least one of them." She sneered, and leaned over to face Opalbane and Onyxbane. She put her hands on her hips. "But do you know why I didn't? Hmm? Because I was busy TRYING TO FIX YOUR LIVES! And it's all your fault that they're so messed up in the first place!"

Shadowstep got up and walked over to Feathershine. "Oh Jebidiath! I didn't see… not until now…" She started crying. "Jebidiath, I just want to go home… please just take me home."

"I will, Deliah." He rubbed her back, thinking. "But we have to help your family first." He looked at all of them. "You all owe Feathershine a debt, and so do I. I have a few choice words for a great many of you myself… but this is not the time for that. Lives are at stake. If we get Wisthera's baby back, and give Zar'teaus to Faltheriel… then we can all start over, fresh. No more crazy cultist tendencies, no more kidnapping, no more assassinating people, nor any more excursions into Horde lands with members of the Burning Legion… just…" he looked up at the sky. "Sweet freedom from each other. Now, can you pull together for that, at least?"

Opalbane wouldn't look at him. Onyxbane took his Arcanite Reaper in hand and stood. "Master Rogue Shadowstep. I can see that my mother loves you. And honestly… you raise some very good points. But at the end of the day, I can't in good conscience let that man" he gestured at Faltheriel with his axe, "take Zar'teaus back into the ranks of the Burning Legion after all the trouble he's caused. Zar'teaus killed my mother and my father in the worst possible way. Now, there's a chance that the Second War might have killed them anyway," Opalbane gave her brother a spiteful look, "But it didn't. A vengeful Old God got in the way of even a war and murdered them. And before that, he hurt people in Shia'jin's family, and before even that, back to the first Jin, as his story goes. He is an evil that must be stopped, not turned over to the Burning Legion for twenty years of torture… afterwards, we all know they are only going to remake him stronger. Zar'teaus must die."

Now Faltheriel stood alone. Feathershine's family members all gathered on one side of the fire. Shia'jin sided with them. "He said it betta' den I could, mon." the blue Troll told Shadowstep.

Faltheriel sneered. "I'll be happy to kill all of you then, if you intend to go back on our deal…"

Shadowstep's Master Rogue instinct felt like it was kicking him in the gut. Something terrible was about to happen, and this was no time to be polite or diplomatic. Everyone here would be the fallout. But there _was_ something he had been kicking around for a while, a plan C of sorts. Only, he didn't want to upset Feathershine…

"Faltheriel," he said, "I'm surprised at you, really, for going after Alessandre, knowing what you do."

Shadowstep kissed Feathershine's forehead, and pretended that what he said was no big deal.

"What?" Faltheriel turned on him.

"Well, maybe it's a few generations removed, but it's still like some kind of twisted incestual adultery." Shadowstep shrugged.

"Oh no! There is no way that I'm related to that… freak!" Alessandre said.

Shadowstep rolled his eyes. "Not you! It's so obvious that Faltheriel carries the Wrath too. I didn't want to say anything before, because, honestly, I hate to think of him being related to my dear Featherhshine… I didn't want to trouble her. But even I have my moral limits." He turned his back on Faltheriel. "You should be ashamed of yourself, for going after your long lost… thrice-removed, etc. etc. sister's husband."

Wisthera took a long look at Shadowstep and instantly understood. "Yea, Opalbane is furious with Al for being a pervert, but you're the real pervert Faltheriel. I think that crosses the line. You could never be a member of this family if you went _that_ far."

Faltheriel glanced at Shia'jin who shrugged. "Hey, I wish I'd recognized it sooner, mon. But now dat Shadowstep mention it… Night Elves _are_ related to Blood Elves. I bet dere be a Jin in your family too. In fact, I'm sure of it! Say, where your family members at?"

Faltheriel pouted. "They died when Arthas came to take the Sunwell. The only real family after that was the Sunfury and Prince Kael'thas—" Faltheriel's hands flew up over his mouth. "They rejected me! I turned to the Burning Legion for support, just like you went to the Twilight Cultists, Opalbane! Oh my goodness! I thought I had no family left… and damn my libido, I almost ruined whatever vestige of it remained in Azeroth by being greedy. Alessandre, could you ever forgive me? Of course I'd be attracted to you… I have my long-lost sister's taste in men!" He jogged over to Shia'jin. "And you! You are like my long lost little brother, in need of my support and guidance during this important time in your life!" Shia'jin made eyed Faltheriel and cleared his throat loudly for not to mention any more when the others gave him strange looks. The Blood Elf wrapped one arm around Opalbane and the other around Shia'jin. Oh! Happy fate! She's brought us back together at an opportune moment, in the same way she worked a miracle in Shia'jin's life when he went down to Darkshire! Oh!"

Alessandre grimaced, but his wife jabbed him in the gut. "Um… welcome to the family?"

_Jebidiath… I don't want to ruin this, but blink twice if you're playing with his head. It seems you're doing it so seamlessly, I can't tell._

Shadowstep smiled at Feathershine and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "There are no guarantees here. There's a good chance that countless people in Azeroth carry Zar'teaus' Wrath, not just your Opalbane, or Shia'jin… Faltheriel could be one of us, afterall. How the hell do I know? I don't, but it solves nearly everything for now."

Faltheriel was running around, hugging everyone. "Maybe if I even pull some strings back at the office… I bet I could fix it so that we can do away with Zar'teaus here on Azeroth, instead of taking him to Outland for torture. I just wanted to do my job… but if I have the Wrath too… I don't want to go on living like that."

"What just happened here?" Alessandre asked his wife.

Wisthera pretended to lean on him for support and whispered. "Shadowstep just saved your ass." She smirked, "Almost literally."

"Alright young people, assemble!" Shadowstep shouted. "We have a great deal of work to do, and lives all over Azeroth hang in the balance."

Feathershine smiled up at him. "You sounded almost like you meant that."

Shadowstep shrugged. "Aww… okay so maybe there's a hero in me yet. Come on people, you have your tasks, let's MOVE!"

_Meanwhile, in the Undercity…_

Zar'teaus was not with Adeiline now. She knew better than to take a powerful Old God into the heart of Undercity. There were countless people who might recognize the work of the Burning Legion and notice him. A while ago, she hid him in a safe place, out of the way. Adeiline walked as calmly as possible into the Apothecarium holding her Elfie.

"Alright, here we go." She cooed to the baby nervously and crossed the threshold.

Cluttered bookshelves covered the walls. Dingy wooden tables sported all sorts of glowing vials and bowls of nefarious solutions. In a room off to the right, the wail of Human prisoners could be heard. With heightening conflict in Hillsbrad, it was easy to for the Royal Apothecaries to kidnap a steady stream of test subjects for their experiments.

A diseased Tauren woman swayed on her feet next to the man she once dated, Apothecary Keever.

"Could that be…" he looked up from under his monacle. "Why it's Apothecary Adeiline Runegardner! It's been ages… we feared you'd absconded with your rare talents and taken them elsewhere!"

Adeiline forced a smile. "Well it has been a long while, hasn't it? But it was just one of those long sorts of adventures, that take you all over Azeroth. My heart lies with the Dark Lady, as usual." Adeiline tried to look normal through the searing pain that ripped through her heart at denying loyalty to Zar'teaus. He warned her that it would happen, but for the sake of his mission, it was necessary to betray him for a while.

"And that's…" she took a deep breath. "Precisely why I've come back." She showed him the giggling baby Night Elf in her arms. "I have a favor to ask of you…"

Adeiline stood by and tried not to look suspicious while twin brothers, Apothecary Keever, and Apothecary Jeever half-argued how to destroy the baby's soul, but not the body using necromancy, and half fought over who was going to get Adeiline at last, after all these years.

Adeiline intervened when she feared it would come to blows. "Gentlemen," she smiled through her rotted jaw, and batted her eyelashes at them. "Have you come up with a solution, or will I have to take my experiment someplace else?"

"I know how to do it!" Jeever spoke up quickly. "All I need is a few gold and…"

"I'll do it for free, if you can find the materials…" his brother further offered.

"I'll do it for free, and take on the expenses myself!" Jeever wrapped an arm around Adeiline's shoulder. His balding, stiff green hair stuck out at the sides, and pale white skin made him look almost like a spooky clown.

Adeiline liked that about him. "Oh, you're a character as usual. Let's not fight over me though. Getting my experiment done, that's more important. Why not work together, for free? As a welcome home present to me."

They walked into a room on the left where pieces of Abomination guards they were assembling lay on tables and huge cold metal meat hooks hanging from the ceiling. Flickering hubs of primitive electric nodes sparked green in the pale light.

"It shouldn't be terribly difficult." Keever announced as he drew on stretchy black gloves. He handed his brother a pair. Simultaneously, Jeever snapped on a set of goggles, took the gloves offered, then handed his brother a pair of goggles. They worked together smoothly like clockwork. "All we have to do is lay him down and—"

"What is your experiment about anyway, and how did you get hold of a Night Elf baby?" Jeever interrupted. His brother frowned at him.

Adeiline cringed against the pain in her chest. The second offense against Zar'teaus was much worse. Even thinking about lying was hard now. "I…" she gasped, "Found him in Darkshire… and I want to see if… baby souls are different from adult ones…aaah… if they are more pure?"

"Ahh… very much the experiment a shadowpriestess would do. Are you alright? rigomortis acting up again?" Keever asked her.

Adeiline trembled. "I'm fine… what do you need me to do?"

Jeever extended his hands. "Give us the baby."

Adeiline took what she knew would be her last look at Elfie. He smiled at her, unaware of the danger she was about to put him in. Adeiline closed her eyes and hugged him to her breast.

_She was coughing a lot back then, she didn't know why. That was when they said Arthas was going to come and liberate them. She hoped he would… her husband had gone to fight in the war and never come back, just like the other men. The whole village was at the mercy of the Scourge now. But as she lay little Robert down to sleep, she felt very strange. Adeiline remembered going to the window, to watch the rain. And then, she saw the dim reflection of her face, how the Plague rotted a gaping hole in her mouth. _

"_No… not me too…"_

_The neighbor Matthew heard her screaming. "Oh, poor Adeiline. I love you, my friend. Know that I do this for your own good, in the name of the Light." _

_Then he cocked the long-barrelled hunting rifle and shot her. The last thing she remembered was Robert crying in his cradle. Her mother's instinct kicked in… she had to go to him. Then darkness._

Elfie was crying now. Apothecaries Keever and Jeever watched her curiously. "Addie, are you alright? Be honest with us now… are you in some kind of trouble?"

Adeiline had one strike left. She was afraid of how much it would hurt if she used it against Zar'teaus for exactly the wrong reason.

"_Momma!" little Robert said to her a few days later. Adeiline was shivering now, and coughing badly. Eternally sick with the Plague, she knew._

_She reached out to hold her son._

"_Hold it right there!" It was Matthew, the kindly neighbor. He again cocked his double-barrelled shotgun. "Adeiline, I showed you mercy before… I couldn't bear to burn your body like the others. Now, leave this place! Let that boy alone. Don't you recognize him? You want him to come out like you?"_

_Adeiline remembered thinking about it, actually thinking about whether or not to bring her baby boy before the Lich King, so they could be damned together._

_Adeiline knelt by the cradle. "They promised me… untold pain if I did not kill him. I must show my loyalty and suffer worse than I am now…But maybe if I take him alive, they'll show mercy…"_

"_Kill your own son? You're mad!"_

"_You don't know what it's like, Matthew, to have your soul ripped from your flesh! How am I even resisting you now?"_

"_Adeiline, stay away from the cradle! I'm warning you… I'll raise him for you, but he can't live if you hurt him—"_

"_I can't take him to the Lich King." She concluded. It should not have been possible for her to reason like this, to show compassion to both Matthew and the child. Perhaps she was special, for dying with a mother's love in her heart…_

"_No, you can't." he confirmed for her, began to relax._

"_But I can save him, before the Lich King comes!" she remembered reaching into the cradle…_

_What she did was wrong. What she did was madness… it was the despair of a bereaved mother, the pain of having lost life and love, and then a child twice: Once in Undeath and if the Plague took him, or the Lich King… little Robert would feel her pain. She wanted to prevent it at all costs. But it was the curse of the Plague she couldn't help, the evil of the Lich King that made her take her baby's life, when it was not necessary. _

_But the result was that the Lich King gained a leash around her throat. With that kind of guilt staining her soul, she would do anything for him or his minions… enslaved forever to hate and devalue life._

Adeiline trembled and sank to her knees with the pain. "No matter the master, I swear that I can't… not one more baby. Not one more soul will fall by my hands!" She looked for Keever and Jeever. She knew that she'd exposed herself as an agent of some great evil, and feared that she would not be able to defend Elfie against them.

But the two Undead men were bent over, sapped by a rogue's spell. Adeiline peered into the main room, to see what the commotion was.

A tall Night Elf rogue, whom Adeiline knew from her spying, was named Alessandre, and an older one that she recognized as the Master Rogue Shadowstep, were fighting the Royal Apothecaries all at once. And, they were losing. A Troll was there too, but she didn't recognize him. He sheepishly cast some totems, and kept looking as if he would do something… finally, he ceased hesitating and healed one of the Night Elves. When Adeiline saw him use magic, she recognized the taint of her master's Wrath within the Troll.

"Look! Elfie, it's your family!" she snuggled up to the crying baby.

_Adeiline… is the process complete? You should come for me now._

Adeiline tried to ignore Zar'teaus' voice in her head. Abomination guards charged into the other room and made for the Night Elves. The Troll wisely stopped healing, lest he be caught against the terrible odds. Alessandre and Shadowstep took one look at Adeiline holding the baby, murder in their eyes. The two were forced to vanish.

Keever and Jeever would come to any moment. More abomination guards filed into the room. By their sheer bulk, they would flush out the rogues soon. Elfie's chance for survival, lost.

That was when Adeiline noticed the haggard Night Elf woman watching her from the shadows.

"Wisthera." Adeiline recognized the baby's mother. She looked much the way she did when Adeiline stole into the cottage and took the newborn child from its cradle.

"Please…" Wisthera said in Darnassian. She extended her arms to Adeiline.

Adeiline didn't understand the woman. She looked sick, like she would fall over.

"Uden." Wisthera said again. She was on her knees.

"Uden? I know what that means…" Adeiline looked sad. "Every Horde knows what it means…"

Adeiline felt the pain well up in her heart. It burned her. What was left of her wretched soul twisted in agony.

_Adeiline? Adeiline, what are you doing? You'd better not be betraying me…ADEILINE!_

Adeiline cried out in pain, which alerted the guards. They jogged over, saw Wisthera.

"Uden, ix rammil oth… UDEN!"

Adeiline screamed against the power of Zar'teaus and crawled over on hands and knees to give Wisthera the baby.

"Mommy's going to stealth… you know how to shadowmeld don't you?" she asked the crying baby. Wisthera felt sorry for the Undead woman who struggled against some powerful force to save her son. But there was no time to help her or ask any questions. There was only time to survive.

Wisthera wasn't supposed to be there. Shadowstep insisted that it would ruin his plan. But when she stealthed, and her son shadowmelded too, she felt that lying to her family about wandering off to take a nap was a good idea.

Wisthera slipped past the abomination guards just in time.

Immediately after, Keever and Jeever revived. "Rogues!" Keever shouted.

His brother tapped him on the shoulder, and gestured at all the alert abomination guards in the room. "Oh," Keever shrugged. And in the next moment, "Adeiline! Are you alright?"

The Undead woman struggled to open her eyes. "So much pain…"

"If you need someone to heal you…" Jeever knelt down to tend to her.

"I'll do the best that I can…" Keever shoved his brother out of the way.

"…among the Royal Apothecaries, you are always welcome—"

"But first," Keever and Jeever fought to get out the same thoughts at the exact same time. Their enduring love for her, after everything, was evident.

"…you must let go the past and take my hand."

Adeiline was sure that it would hurt, but she did it anyway. "We missed you when you left," Keever told her. "My brother and I made up. We decided that if we ever saw you again, we'd just date you on alternate nights. Is that okay? We don't want you to run away again."

Adeline winced at the pain, but was grateful to manage a smile at her luck. "Bless the Dark Lady… it turns out that I had people who loved me afterall."

_Meanwhile, just outside the Apothecarium…_

"Did you get him?" Alessandre, in stealth, whispered frantically to Wisthera. She showed them the bundle in her arms.

Shadowstep looked relieved. "Alessandre. Did you bring Starshatter down from Southshore like I asked? I can't see the damn thing."

Alessandre's stealthing Nightsaber mount sneaked around a corner when he whistled.

"I hope he's fast." Shadowstep told them as he helped Wisthera up onto the cat in front of Alessandre. "I'll meet you outside."

Starshatter could not run while stealthed. That was the most dangerous thing about fleeing the Undercity.

The enormous silvery war mount roared up a storm while he barreled through the various districts of the underground fortress. Wisthera used all her strength to hold onto her son while Alessandre looked desperately for the entrance to the Sewers. Undead and other races of the Horde from all over were attracted by his unusual mount and the prospect of an easy Alliance kill. Alessandre leaned over Wisthera and pushed her down against the cat. This kept the woman and her baby firmly in place while he steered with both hands.

Finally, Alessandre saw the stairs that led away… a line of angry Abomination guards stood shoulder to shoulder, having created a makeshift blockade.

"Come on boy, you can do it! Jump!"

Starshatter didn't jump but bit the arm of one of the stitched up guards on the way up the stairs.

Alessandre was swearing loudly at the cat for disobeying, but the feline's momentum ripped the seething green necromancy experiment in two, and forced a way for them. Starshatter made an immediate right, after giving his master a slightly apologetic mew, and raced through the empty slimy green sewers to freedom. Alessandre leaned down and patted the faithful cat on the head.

On the way though, man and mount knocked over a dirty glass jar lodged into a crevice in the wall. It shattered…

"How did you lose your wife!" Feathershine yelled at the flustered Onyxbane. All of them were running around far down the hillside beneath the entrance to the Sewers. They peered behind trees and bushes.

"I don't know, she got away somehow… dammit!" he swore when he realized Wisthera tricked them. "She's probably in the Undercity right now! We have to get in there and stop her!"

That was when Starshatter leapt out of the sewer tunnel, with a showy roar. Wisthera nearly fell out of the saddle. Alessandre let go the reigns and grabbed baby and mother with both arms. Starshatter kept them steady.

Shia'jin and Shadowstep emerged from the tunnel after.

"We did it!" Shia'jin shouted and clapped Shadowstep on the back. Onyxbane cheered from far down the hill. He, Feathershine, Opalbane, and Faltheriel raced cross-country, through demon hounds and plaguebats to reunite with Wisthera and his son.

"GROM'KA NAXZA UNDA KA!"

The Night Elves didn't understand the words of the threat, but the gun pointed right at Wisthera was clear enough.

Pasha stood with her overstuffed pig at her side, a few yards down the hill near the Zepplin tower. She looked ready to aim-shot anyone who disobeyed.

"I heard there was a raid on Undercity…" she said in Orcish, but I never thought my own brother would be behind it." She snarled at Shia'jin and refocused the gun on him. He still had a red Hunter's Mark hovering above his head. The rogues stealthed, but Pasha expertly tossed a flare into the heart of the group, and Alessandre, Wisthera, and Shadowstep were forced to decloak.

"Pasha! Stop! You not understand!" Shia'jin shouted back to her in Orcish.

"Pasha?" Wisthera balked. "Wait… _that's_ Pasha? But you said he was your brother?"

Shia'jin mumbled under his breath in Common. "She feel like a brotha…"

"Wait, does that mean—"

"Not now." Shadowstep whispered to Wisthera. He gave Faltheriel a warning look too. Of course Shadowstep, a rogue mastermind, had known.

Shia'jin walked over cautiously, and raised his hands over his head. "Pasha, dis be our family… remember the stories mom and dad used ta tell us, about the Night Elf side? You not gonna break da family pact, are you?"

"Doesn't apply to me." Pasha heatedly returned. She sounded hurt. "As you constantly remind me, big brother, I'm adopted, not part of the family. I can kill as many Night Elves as I want, according to you."

Baby the pig squealed triumphantly.

"You shaddup, you filthy, ugly breakfast meat—"

Faltheriel, the only priest who could read minds well enough to guess what might happen, covered his eyes.

Baby reared up and charged, lightning fast, into Shia'jin's legs. The blue Troll howled in pain and fell over.

"Anyone else want to talk trash about my pigs, you go right ahead!"

Faltheriel ran forward. "Ma'am, I think you're a bit confused. You see, we're not invading Undercity…" he thought quickly, "We're merely—"

The sharp rapport of Pasha's gun echoed across the dark fields. Little demon dogs scattered, and all the Romancers hit the ground.

Pasha bent down and set up a frost trap. "Get back, behind me!" she shouted at everyone. Faltheriel translated for them hastily, and all the elves ran to her side. They didn't need much convincing. A gigantic rotting Old God hovered at the entrance of the Sewer. His head lolled to the side. Zar'teaus was in deep sleep.

Pasha bent and lifted Shia'jin up off the ground, by the scruff of his shirt.

"Alright, big brother, you've got about five seconds to explain to me what the HELL that thing is caught in my Wyvern Sting, and why I just helped a bunch of good for nothing yellow-livered, stinkin' Night Elves!"

Faltheriel did another hasty translation for the group. Baby the pig dutifully nudged Mr. Wiggles the piglet aside and took his usual place between his master, her trap, and the threat.

"That pig is either very brave, or very stupid." Shadowstep grimly observed.

"What did you say about my pig!" Pasha flared and jumped on Shadowstep.

"She know some Common too… mostly about pigs… forgot to tell ya'. Hey! Be careful, she a Survivalist hunter. Watch da Raptor Strike!"

Pasha whipped her green enchanted axes about and Shadowstep yelped in pain. The others looked on in shock.

Shia'jin crouched low behind his sister's frost trap, and sighed. "I told you, mon. We screwed, now, big time."

Faltheriel smiled to himself. "Hmm, I like her. She's kind of—"

"Incest, mon! For da love of da gods!" he shouted over the loud Orc and Night Elf fighting.

Faltheriel snapped his mouth shut. "Oh… riiiight. Heh. It seems I forgot already. But, wait a minute, you said Pasha was adopted?"

It didn't matter though. Everyone audibly cringed when Faltheriel said it. Could it be that none of them were safe afterall?


	20. The eyes of the Legion Ranger

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Twenty: The eyes of the Legion Ranger…**

Faltheriel strutted up to Pasha after she was done with Shadowstep. "You know, Pasha, Blood Elf men are actually very—"

She glared at him. "There's a Blood Elf guy in my guild, named Delovely. He kept trying to hit on me too once." Her husky voice was weighted by bitterness.

"What? No, I didn't really mean to offend—"

"Do you wanna know what I did to him?"

Shia'jin intervened. "Don't answer dat, mon. She not tell you, but show you."

Faltheriel finally backed down from advancing on a woman. Pasha grinned at him and the fangs on her bottom row of teeth made her look especially fiendish. "Let's just say he still walks funny. I had to buy another Dwarven Hand Cannon off the Auction House." She smoothed her thumb up the length of the metal barrel. "This is actually Buttbreaker Junior."

Priestess Feathershine looked concerned. She leaned in and asked Faltheriel for a translation.

"No need… just… idle banter." Faltheriel told her. His voice broke at the end.

"So, we've got about ten seconds on the Wyvern Sting, and counting. Who's the lucky bastard that's going to pick him up out of my frost trap?" Pasha held the Hand Cannon in one hand and a menacing axe in the other.

Shadowstep flinched and tried not to look Pasha in the eye when she glanced his way. "It can smell my _fear_…" he whispered to Feathershine who pouted at him and rubbed his back comfortingly.

Faltheriel translated and then announced, "I believe, as a Burning Legion Ranger, that task falls to me." Impsy cackled in his high voice and saluted.

"The Burning Legion? Blood and Thunder!" Pasha swore in Orcish. "Mom and Dad are going to kill you!" she nudged Shia'jin in the shoulder with a green fist. He nearly flopped over, and started complaining that her 'man hands' hurt. Pasha raised her gun up over her head like a club in response.

"Those two are worse than we are." Opalbane whispered to her brother.

"Mmmhmm." Onyxbane had a disturbed look on his face.

"You got five seconds, Brokebutt the Third. Unless you want me to waste another Wyvern Sting, _and_ my cooldown." Pasha shouted up the hill at Faltheriel.

His back to the group, Faltheriel shuddered. "I think you're going to have to… I can't draw a demonic rune in—"

The crack of Pasha's gun made Faltheriel yelp and fall on the ground.

"Now you got another ten seconds, Brokebutt. Don't make me regret it."

"I've never seen Faltheriel so disciplined." Alessandre muttered to the others. "That woman is downright terrifying."

"She distracted now, so I give you a hint." Shia'jin backed up and whispered to them. "She only know how to tell if you say bad ting about her pig or gun in Common… or if you ask for help, or da Burning Legion. Everyone in da Horde know those last two."

Shadowstep took a step away from Feathershine. He'd calmed down a great deal. "Are you sure that mean Orc sister of yours will help us? She isn't going to kill us once Zar'teaus is safely in custody, will she?"

"Not alone, no. I don't exactly trust her… but if we keep her away from otha Horde, we gotta' chance."

"So we're taking her hostage then." Shadowstep grimaced. "Just great. Another orphan whelp…"

"Five… four… three… two… wonder if I can get a Hunter's Mark over his ass… looks big enough."

"Alright, it's done!" Faltheriel shouted at her. "And I have a sensibly trim figure, thank you very much!"

"You're fat even by Orc standards." Pasha coldly informed Faltheriel. His long ears wilted. "Oh, and by the way, whatever that thing is—I can't track it—is about to eat you." She pointed over at Zar'teaus.

The Old God snarled and threw up his smoky arms. "Who _dares_ disturbs the great god Zar'teaus!"

"A very, _very_ annoyed Legion Ranger, that's who!" Faltheriel put his hands on his hips.

Zar'teaus whimpered.

"Just who told you to run away from us twenty years ago… that wasn't smart." He waggled a finger at the Old God. Tiny Impsy did a somersault at Faltheriel's feet and chattered away in Demonic. "And I have a translator with me, so no excuses." He pointed at the red demon.

"I… I knew that I disobeyed a direct order—"

"Aha! So we have an admission of guilt!"

"But it wasn't fair! I _had _to do it! Those elves were the last surviving descendants of Jin with the Wrath. If I killed them, then I could end the curse that was plaguing me, an immortal god, like some disease!"

"Either you're lying, or you were misguided at the time, Zar'teaus. I have evidence that there are Troll descendants too. You can't use the Vendetta Clause… there was no justifiable revenge to be had, no real reason to kill those two Night Elves. You weren't even supposed to be engaged in battle at the time. You simply ignored your commanding officer and did whatever you pleased."

"I thought it would work, I swear!"

"And then you thought turning Opalbane into your High Priestess would work? Or kidnapping Onyxbane's son to use as your new body? Or abducting a Twilight Cultist from Silithus—"

"Adeiline is my High Priestess! She came with me of her own free will…"

"Not the way I'm going to write up the report." Faltheriel grinned at him. "You see, you made a grave mistake when you gave me so much trouble, Zar'teaus. As if having to endure the rituals to become a Twilight Cultist weren't enough… you caused me to run into these vastly annoying people, and they wasted my time, knocked out my teeth…" Faltheriel began to get emotional. "And then… I found out that they were my family. You messed with the wrong Legion Ranger!"

"What? But I can tell just by looking at you, you don't carry the—"

"Watch out, Faltheriel, he's going to attack! He's got something concealed!" Shadowstep yelled suddenly. The bushes just behind Zar'teaus rustled.

"Resisting arrest! Now I'm allowed to use force!" Faltheriel hopped back and began conjuring dark green fel magic.

"But I didn't—"

"Nice." Alessandre whispered to Shadowstep. The clever once Master Rogue got another rock in his hand and pitched it into a second bush. "It's over there now, Faltheriel!"

Zar'teaus roared and ran.

"I've got the situation under control." Faltheriel thrust a hand over head, and purple magic raced up from the Demonic rune to his finger tips. Menacing black armor appeared. It covered the Blood Elf head to toe. Jagged spikes ripped out of shoulder guards that seethed with fel green magic. Bright green flags, the color of a Sap Beast flared out at the ends of each metal spike. Though they did not touch, they moved and flowed side by side like a cape. His ears poked out of a black metal helmet with coiled demon horns. A solid faceguard should have prevented vision entirely, but it was obvious that Faltheriel could still see… with some other vision. Then, Faltheriel stretched out his arms and a thin line of magic appeared between them. After a deft movement of his wrists, he tied one end into a noose. He whipped it around overhead like a lasso.

"We've got a live one, Master!" Impsy squeaked and climbed up onto Faltheriel's shoulder. Beside Alessandre, Starshatter began growling before anyone saw what the Blood Elf conjured next. A screeching fiery black steed with a sparking white hot mane and tail of flame emerged from a column of fel green smoke.

Pasha set a Freezing Trap. "Everyone get back! Onto the road… give 'em space!"

Shia'jin helped everyone to understand just as Zar'teaus rushed over. He didn't seem dangerous, just very old and ugly… until he got close. There was an aura about the Old God that made everyone slow down. It was painful to walk, and the closer Zar'teaus got the more it hurt. Then it made your skin itch terribly, your eyes tear and burn. A foul odor hit them next. At first it was just smelly but then the air in your nostrils began to feel thick. It was suffocating.

Faltheriel's screeching horse leapt over Zar'teaus' head and in front of the group just in time. "Get back!" Faltheriel warned.

Pasha was running in the Aspect of the Cheetah and became dazed when Zar'teaus lashed out angrily for having been caught in her Freezing Trap. With good hunter instinct, she attempted to Wing Clip him and speed away.

"Pasha! No!" Faltheriel and Shia'jin screamed together in Orcish.

Zar'teaus grabbed her leg and began to drag her. She twisted and cried out, clawing at the grass. If just being around Zar'teaus tortured every mortal sense, being touched by him must have been far worse. Shia'jin raced after his sister and dropped an Earthbinding Totem to help further snare the monster. Combined with Pasha's snowy white Freezing Trap that covered the ground with a white ice slick, Zar'teaus was almost slowed to a stop.

It gave Faltheriel enough time to race up close, raise the evil looking lasso over his head…

In a daring leap so perfectly timed that everyone almost missed it, Faltheriel had the rope around Zar'teaus' neck, the Old God flat on his stomach and his rotting limbs bound together and hogtied behind his back. The Legion Ranger landed and then and finished with a flourish.

"How was my time, Impsy?"

"Twenty seconds."

"Dammit!"

The others rushed in and surrounded the agonizing Pasha. She gritted her teeth against making a sound, but tears streamed down her green face. Her ankle, where Zar'teaus grabbed her, looked terrible.

"Ah no, mon! I tried to heal her but—"

Without being asked, Priestess Feathershine and Opalbane instantly raised their arms and cast powerful spells of golden light on the Orc.

"Feel betta?" Shia'jin wrapped his arms around his little sister.

"Yes," She eyed the two Night Elf women who healed her. She tried to stand and walk, but couldn't.

"It dat bad mojo ankle thrown out again." Shia'jin clucked his tongue. "She hurt it when she was a girl, playin' around with Fatha's shrunken heads. She need a Witch Doctor."

"Grom'ka." Pasha said quietly to Opalbane and Feathershine.

"What does that mean?" Opalbane asked.

"Thank… you." Pasha tried in Common. Then, since the first time they met her, she gave a kind, but fleeting smile.

"Is she going to be alright?" Faltheriel's voice was muffled under his terrifying faceguard. Everyone yelped and scrambled away from him in his menacing armor. "Yes, I know… it's sexy right?" One couldn't see, but it wasn't hard to tell from Faltheriel's tone that he was smiling. Then he clucked his tongue and waggled a finger at everyone in their little circle. "Someone here is having very naughty thoughts about me in my armor. I'm not going to say who, but I would keep wives and girlfriends, boyfriends and brothers under lock and key tonight. Lest you tempt the appetite of someone who knows exactly how to play fun little games in this outfit." He paced a circle around Pasha who lay helpless in the middle and eyed everyone.

"Faltheriel, please give it a rest. Just when we thought you couldn't get more disturbing, you go and… wait? What do you mean _tonight_?" Shadowstep said.

"Well, it's going to be a long ride to the Barrens. I have some contacts there, at Dreadmist Peak I must speak with. Unless… I misread you all and you no longer want to kill Zar'teaus?"

Everyone nodded eagerly that they did.

"Good. Then we have to spend even more time together, lucky me." He chuckled, and rubbed his hands together like he was about to enjoy a meal.

The Blood Elf walked over to Zar'teaus who lay on the dingy grass. The strange black lasso had been wrapped around his rotted snout and he couldn't talk. The little baby squealed in Wisthera's arms and reached over. His laugh was wild, fiendish.

Zar'teaus flinched and tried to scoot away from the baby.

"Looks like our little Reaper did a number on him, somehow." Onyxbane smoothed back his son's white ponytail, but it popped right back up like his father's.

"Now you see a dreadful Old God," Faltheriel made another line of black energy the length of his armspan. He pinched one end and shook it out so that it became a like a blanket, only it sparked and crackled with evil green energy. Next, he reached down and got the other end in his fingertips. He spread it out in front of Zar'teaus like screen. Impsy came and lifted up the bottom edges that floated over the ground, so that everyone could see that Zar'teaus still lay on the floor beyond.

Finally, Faltheriel whipped the black cloth about. In a flick of his wrists, Zar'teaus was gone. "Now you don't." Then made a fist, and used a finger to stuff the cloth into his hand. Everyone watched, a little entertained, a little disturbed, as the Legion Ranger did his magic trick. At last, the Blood Elf opened his palm to reveal that the cloth had disappeared completely.

"Taah Daaah!" Impsy cheered. Faltheriel put a hand on one hip and snapped with the other. In a flash of sparkling green, his black armor, the nightmare horse, and all the terrifying elements of his profession were gone. He was, again, in a red and gold Thalassian robe.

Shia'jin was in awe. "How he—"

Faltheriel strutted away singing:

"Oh, the eyes of the Legion Ranger are upon youuu…,

Wherever you go, Faltheriel's gonna seeee,

So when you're in Azeroth, look behind you…

Cause that's where the fel magic's gonna' be!"

Shadowstep shook his head, disappointed. "Just when I thought I was beginning to like the guy… why in blazes did he give himself theme song?"

"Wish I had one." Onyxbane mumbled and guided Wisthera and their son to the Zepplin tower.

"Hey, where's _my_ Baby?" Pasha asked in Orcish. She looked from the Night Elf couple to the melancholy Tirisfal Glades around them.

Just at the start of the forest some yards away, the poor fat pig was caught between two old trees. Baby the pig was still flushed red from his mad Boar Charge. Most likely, he'd made it at the start of the battle, but went too far too fast, and was too pudgy to get out of his little bind.

Leaning on her brother, Pasha groaned and smacked her forehead.

Once safely concealed in the hull of the Zepplin, something occurred to Shadowstep.

"Now, this is probably going to upset everyone… but it goes against my grain to just be polite and not bring it up." He looked at Wisthera. "You have to go home with that child, right away. Perhaps you want to see how this ends, but—"

"He's right, Wisthera. Where is your hearthstone set?"

Shadowstep blinked at Priestess Feathershine. She was agreeing with him.

Wisthera scooted closer to Onyxbane and rocked the baby in her arms. "I… I don't want to leave him—"

Onyxbane hugged Wisthera tight. "You aren't leaving me. You are taking our baby to safety."

Wisthera steeled herself. "And you need to settle this vendetta. I know you, you won't rest until you've seen for yourself that Zar'teaus is dead. Going after someone who hurt your family was how we met." Wisthera stood. "My hearthstone is set to Darnassus."

"Go directly to the Temple of Elune. Mention my name to the Sentinels, and they will watch over you." Feathershine instructed.

Everyone went and hugged Wisthera goodbye.

"Thank you for everything, Shia'jin. I won't ever forget you." She wrapped her free arm around the Troll. "Maybe you were confused when you told me that you were Onyxbane's brother, but… I truly feel it in my heart." She began to cry. "I owe you so much—"

"No you don't, girly. We family. Dat be what we do for eachotha."

Across the room, Pasha grunted to herself. Baby the pig flopped over with a thud and lay exhausted by her side.

Wisthera whispered in Shia'jin's ear. "Make up with your sister. I don't have any siblings of my own, but I see how Onyxbane and Opalbane are. I really wish that I had something as special as that." She narrowed her eyes deviously. "I mean it. Do whatever it takes."

Shia'jin scratched his head, unsure, but said he would try.

Onyxbane and Wisthera said a long goodbye. Between them, their son tugged on his father's long white braids.

"I love you, Sara. Goodbye. Ouch!" He wrestled with his little boy's death grip to get the tiny fingers from around his hair. "I'll see you soon, little Reaper."

As Wisthera faded in the green light of her hearthstone, she said, "Goodbye, husband. Remember that I love you. And his name is _not_ Reaper…" then she was gone.

Onyxbane bowed his head and went to sit by himself, but Alessandre walked over and seized his brother-in-law in a bear hug. "It's going to be alright, Onyx. It's going to be fine. Stay strong, okay?" he patted Onyxbane on the back.

Onyxbane gritted his teeth and clapped his arms firmly against Alessandre's back in turn. "Thanks, man."

"That is soo hot." Faltheriel whispered to Shia'jin.

"Again! Incest!" Shia'jin flared.

From where he was sitting with an arm around Feathershine's shoulder, Shadowstep groaned loudly.

"I never thought that they'd ever get along so well, did you Jebidiath? For a long time, I thought Opalbane and Onyxbane would kill each other, and then after that when they didn't, I was certain that Opalbane would go and kill lots of other people, but then Alessandre came along–"

"There is no one above deck." Shadowstep whispered sensuously in his long time lover's ear.

Feathershine didn't need much more encouragement than that. They held hands and casually walked up the stairs to the upper level, but when they were sure none of Feathershine's family members could see them, they ran.

Shadowstep pressed Feathershine up against the wooden hatch that covered the stairs above deck. It was the only wall for feet around them. The rest was wooden deck and beautiful blue sky.

"Goddess, I love you. Ever since you said those things at the Undercity... I never wanted you so much before in my life. Do you finally forgive me, Deliah?" He kissed her.

Feathershine smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, I don't know... you did some terrible things."

Shadowstep slid the strap of her blue mooncloth robe off her shoulders. He kissed her rose skin. "Your children did worse, you said so yourself. They took advantage of your kindness... I was desperate to save you from them. Oh, Deliah, don't look at me like that. You know I'm not playing mind games with you. That is the only logical conclusion one can draw from all the crazy things that have happened over the years. You weren't just giving to them, but you are so selfless, I don't doubt you want to believe the best about them and yourself. But, truly, my love, they were taking advantage of you, as a Priestess of Elune."

That chilled the mood between them. Feathershine pulled back from his kiss, and after decades of experience with the woman, Shadowstep was sure that he couldn't win if he pushed her from this point on.

"It's this simple, Deliah. After everything, I still want you. Do you want me? Where do we stand?"

Feathershine took a moment to think about it. "As long as I am a Priestess of Elune, it will be my responsibility to watch over them. It doesn't matter how angry I got earlier today... In fact, I'll need to apologize for the things I said."

"Deliah, please! Don't double back on this... it's my heart we're talking about, not some mission, not some whiny young adults who don't know how to manage their own personal problems! It's me, Jebidiath, the man you care for."

"Jebidiath." she spoke calmly. "If not them, then it will be someone else, some other mission of mercy. That is my job."

Shadowstep smiled deviously. "Then it sounds like... I'm asking you to stop being a Priestess of Elune."

Finally, they came to a stalemate. She had asked him to do much the same thing before in Ashenvale when she accused Shadowstep of being too intense about his work as the Master Rogue.

Feathershine got upset. "Has it really come to this? I have to stop being who I am to be with you, and you must change yourself to be with me? Do we really have any hope of being together?"

Shadowstep looked disappointed as well. "Once this is all over... why don't we go home and talk about it, hmm?"

"Talk! Just talk? No... mind games, or Sentinels jumping out of my closet accusing me of being a blasphemer in the Eyes of Elune based on my rebellious actions that caused this fiasco in the first place... no blackmailing me to stop being a priestess? No binding contract that perhaps I signed a long time ago back when I still trusted you that contains a clause about you owning my soul... no trap door beneath your desk at the KRN that will lead to an underground lair where you chain me up and force me to love you for eternity?"

Shadowstep's eyes widened. "All very good ideas... you have changed a lot, Deliah. I didn't think you could come up with things so devious. But no, I just think we need some time alone, AWAY from your family and friends... to talk about us. That is all I want after this craziness is ended."

Feathershine smiled. "You _have_ changed. Mission B17 Alpha might not be a lost cause afterall."

Shadowstep blinked. "How did you know..."

"Recently, I find... that your mind is not so distracting these days. I like what you keep in there about me. Maybe..." she sighed happily, "before this thing lands, we can try some of it."

Shadowstep looked up to see Ogrimmar growing larger in the distance, the Zepplin tower fast approaching.

He grimaced at their bad timing, but then shrugged it off. "Aw screw it... I don't care who sees."

Shia'jin and Faltheriel remembered at that point why they'd made their lifestyle choice. Well... Faltheriel wasn't so disturbed, but just enough to comfort his new brother. Opalbane threatened to have another traumatic flight into cultist-type madness. Onyxbane tugged on his white braids and started whimpering miserably like a little boy again. Alessandre shuddered and held his wife. Pasha started laughing heartily.

Whatever their reaction to walking in on Feathershine and Shadowstep, it didn't compare with those of the Horde waiting on the Zepplin platform or the Goblin guards who winced at how their expensive money machine was being defiled.

All the Romancers were forced to run and jump ship. Then, they whistled for their mounts and rode fast to the Barrens.

_Meanwhile in Darnassus..._

Master Rogue Myrielle Fadeleaf tapped her plumed pen to her pouted round lips. Master Rogue Steamer, whom everyone knew she fondly called "Steamy" and why, sat on the edge of her desk tinkering with some whirring device.

"Let's see... how does this sound, Steamy? Darnassus' most wanted: These volatile rogues are traitors to the Kaldorei Rogue Network and should be hunted down at any cost. The reward for returning the outlaws, alive, will be likewise immeasurable. First offender, criminal mastermind Wisthera Jadefire. Second offender, murderer Alessandre aka 'Mirothalas Shademoon' aka 'the Druid Deathdealer of Stormwind'..." He's got many other names, Steamy, but there are too many to fit on a Wanted poster."

The red lights on the Steamer's gadget began to flash on. He smiled wickedly in the nefarious light. "Finally, I've done it! All I needed was a touch of Druid magic... thanks to your contacts," he leaned over and kissed Wisthera on the cheek. "With this, we'll be able to track every rogue in the KRN and beyond... we'll know exactly what they're up to at any time of day," he gestured across the room where three black and yellow striped remote controls began to flash. The Steamer pressed a button on the ankle bracelet he held. The one on the far left rattled, smoked... then the green aura of druidic power seethed up from the device and created a scene. It was of the Gnomish Master Rogue sitting on Myrielle's desk holding the tracking device. He moved about and waved. The green projection reflected his movements instantly. "And if they don't obey," he walked over and pressed the projecting remote. The tracking device in his hand he tossed onto the floor just in time. It sparked and buzzed. If he were still holding it, the results would undoubtedly be painful. "We can march an army of rogues like this right into Ironforge... and demand that they send troops to restore Gnomereggan. And getting them to wear the things will be easy. No one suspects a Gnome..."

Myrielle clucked her tongue at him. "That's far too treasonous, Steamy." Then she began to smile. "Why not march them directly into Gnomereggan, and settle that uprising ourselves, once and for all. A back scratch for your back scratch." she leaned across the desk and kissed him.

"Done." he said. "Oh, how I adore you, Master Rogue Myrielle!"

"And I you, Steamy! This is just brilliant! Complete and utter control over all rogue operations... with your invention, I could manipulate everyone at once, maneuver every rogue in the KRN like an army. Completely efficient, no more failed assignments, no more reckless spontaneity like the kind Alessandre and Wisthera nearly destroyed this place with." she grinned. "Shadowstep would be proud."

"About that..." Stanley the Steamer cleared his throat. "Have you thought about what you're going to do when Shadowstep gets back? What if he disagrees with the progress we've made?"

"Why would he–"

"You took his power away. He doesn't even know it yet. He could be angry. In fact... he could be out there, somewhere plotting revenge on you as we speak. It doesn't seem like him to be completely oblivious." he watched Myrielle begin to panic. "I'll let you in on a bit of advice, Master Rogue to Master Rogue... Sometimes, we have to bend the rules, play favorites a bit, to keep those who would threaten our power away. Or all that hard work gets wasted." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Put that Shadowstep on your list."

Myrielle hesitated, but Master Rogue Stanley the Steamer guided her hand:

_Wanted: Liar and betrayer to the Night Elf people, once Master Rogue Jebidiath Shadowstep_.

"For Gnomereggan." He saluted her when they finished.

Myrielle was afraid, but she was even more worried about what would happen if she betrayed this man... knowing what she did. "For... Gnomereggan." she uncomfortably saluted him back.

Ever silently, a Sentinel walked away from the Master Rogue's closed door, up through the dark winding tunnel entrance to the KRN, and towards the Temple of Elune.

_Did you hear that, High Priestess? What shall I do?_

There was a silence. Tyrande Whisperwind was thinking.

_We must find Shadowstep. He is the only one who can fix this without ruining the KRN or fracturing the Alliance. Please go quickly. I fear, for him to be gone this long... he must be in a great deal of trouble. Take a full regiment of Sentinels with you to retrieve him straight away, I don't care what he's doing. _

_He is our only hope now._

Author's Note:

There should be a second episode this week. The guild spoofing will have to wait until after that one is finished. Happy reading!


	21. Two New Deputies

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Twenty-One: Two new Deputies**

"I'm going to take your pointy blue ears, and rip 'em off! I need to go to Sen'jin Village!" she threatened in Orcish.

Pasha was enraged when Shia'jin dragged her spike-collared swift brown wolf across the road to Orgrimmar by the reigns. His orange raptor mount shrieked displeasure at having to tow yet another set of creatures. I mean, what did he look like, a kodo? The elves didn't notice, because they were too focused on riding fast through Durotar to reach the safety of the expansive Barrens.

"No, cause den you gonna' tell everyone we here. I know you too well. If you hobble, you can't get away while I help da Night Elves."

Faltheriel brought up the rear on a fussy blue hawkstrider. "You know, Pasha, there is something very appealing about kidnapping, putting a woman in bonds–"

"Shut it Brokebutt!" Pasha whipped around and almost knocked Faltheriel in the head with the butt of her Dwarven Hand Cannon.

"Yes Ma'am."

They crossed the Southfury River, annoyed some Orgrimmar grunts guarding that outpost who, for some reason, huffed and puffed after the Night Elves on foot despite the kennel packed with wolf mounts nearby. They gave up three fourths of the way up the steep road that opened into the Barrens.

An Orc grunt spied Shia'jin, Pasha, and Faltheriel who passed by last.

"You," he huffed, "go get 'em... good job, soldiers."

Shia'jin and Faltheriel instantly saluted, and speeded away while Pasha yelled,

"Help! I'm being kidnapped by Elves..."

But the grunts were already jogging back down the road.

Shadowstep called for Faltheriel to get up front and lead. The once Master Rogue was in alien country now. Five nightsabers of assorted colors, Alessandre's being the largest and most conspicuous in its ancient green Cenarion armor, a fierce orange war raptor wearing a sleek black feathered headdress and armor, and a savage looking wolf mount with glowing yellow eyes and spiked collar followed an excited chirping fluffy blue hawkstrider. Faltheriel's mount nearly danced and skipped along. Everyone, both Alliance and Horde groaned at the embarrassment.

"Aha! We've come to the secret outpost of the Burning Legion." They emerged from a desolate dry grassland swarming with zehvra, prowlers, and giraffes to stand at the base of... a mountain populated by bored plainstriders.

Shadowstep massaged the ridge of his nose. "Faltheriel, do we have to kill you again?"

"It's not what it seems... you'll see." He urged the others along.

"Um..." Shia'jin raised a hand and said, "I don't tink I can keep ma sista' quiet. You all go ahead, I'll wait here wit her till you get back."

"Now, that is the best idea that any of you whelps has had since I met you. Yes, let's leave some people behind." Shadowstep sighed, and they followed Faltheriel up an abandoned mountain trail. Shia'jin watched his family members climb until their mounts were like dots on the precipice, then settled his sister and himself down under a shade tree.

"If I could stand to get far enough away, and into range and shoot you..." Pasha grumbled.

"Aw, wouldn't be da first time."

Baby the pig started squealing something too... maybe he thought people could actually understand him because he regularly contributed to conversations when there was a pause or break of some kind. Pasha reached over and gave him a good scratch behind the ear, fussed over his red armor.

"He joined another raiding guild." Pasha said.

"Huh? Who we talkin' bout?"

"Flathoof! Who else!" Pasha scratched her head. "He left a note on the message board saying something about how he'd miss us all, but he wanted to explore other options, yadda yadda yadda... But it isn't that, Shia'jin." she growled. "It's all your fault. And he didn't even say goodbye to me. We dated for months."

"I'm sorry."

Pasha suddenly lost her temper and leapt onto her brother, despite her bum ankle.

"Aaah! Please, no!"

"I'm gonna' kill you! He was the best thing that ever happened to me... He was helping me to finish my epic bow quest, and I still don't have it... a fellow hunter! And he was handsome and successful! In full Dragonstalkers armor _before _the Burning Crusade started! Gaaaah!"

Shia'jin squirmed away just enough to hit his little sister with a frost shock. Then he really got far from her. Baby the pig trotted after the Troll, brandishing his tusks.

"Men like that don't just fall off trees!" Pasha shouted.

"Don't I know it." Shia'jin grumbled to himself. "Look, I'm sorry... I wish I told ya before," Pasha was now crawling on her hands and knees to get to him, so he hit her with another frost shock spell. She cringed but kept coming. "But den I would have to tell you dat... dat I'm gay." he winced and put up an earthbind totem. Pasha snarled and sliced it in half with her axe. "Uh... and if I did that, den the whole family would know, and I be mincemeat."

"Pah! You just wanted him all to yourself." Baby began to help drag Pasha along, tugging on her leather armor. "And what good did it do you? He left you anyway!"

Shia'jin squatted about a yard away, in the road. He scratched the back of his neck. "He left me for da same reason you want to kill me now, sis." he fumbled with his hands. "I not tell anyone dat I like men... so I embarrassed both of us. He hate me now."

Pasha had finally exhausted herself. She lay in the grass on her stomach, and swatted Baby away when he kept pulling at her.

"So... _that's _what happened?" she frowned. "I thought maybe... I wasn't Orc enough for him?"

Shia'jin didn't have time to ask what in the world she meant. The pebbles in the road started to clatter. The ground shook. A mean-looking Orc rogue in black armor came galloping toward them on a white frostwolf. Its eyes glowed a purple haze under silver metal armor and spiked collar. When he saw Shia'jin in the road, he slowed his wolf mount to a walk.

"You there! Are you Shia'jin of Sen'jin Village?"

Shia'jin crawled backwards a few paces then, sputtered, "Ya mon... dat be me. Why?"

"I am a deputy of the Shattered Hand. By order of the great Warchief, you are under arrest for crimes against the Horde. Aiding and abetting a raid on Undercity, before that smuggling Night Elves into Grom'gol Base camp and then on a Zepplin to Orgrimmar..."

"Wait a minute! Horde do dat all da time... I not get in trouble!"

The Orc rogue glared at him from underneath a hooded black mask that covered everything but his eyes. "We're cracking down. And it seems you know a whole ring of people..."

"No, stop! I'm the one who needs help, I've been kidnapped!" Pasha shouted.

The Orc on the frostwolf was startled. He hadn't even seen her. But when he did...

He whipped off his menacing rogue's mask. "Fearsome wench, I am called Knifedance." He was handsome for an Orc. He had neat short clipped hair and a finely trimmed goatee. The fangs that protruded from the edges of his mouth actually improved a charming smile that also had a way of making you shiver. "By the gods, the spirits, and all the elements, I swear in blood that you are the most terrifying warrior woman I've ever seen."

Pasha flashed a look at Shia'jin who shrugged.

"I'm a hunter, bucko. And do you know what I do to people who–"

"You... aren't a warrior? By your savage mien, the look of murder in your eye... I would have assumed... a deadly woman you must surely be!"

Pasha squinted an eye. "Are you... hitting on me, or what?"

Shia'jin sat up, finally understanding. "Pasha! He's roleplaying. Be careful!"

"Why? I kinda like it." she smiled up at the rogue. "Wait... I thought Arpeers were weird?" she asked Knifedance. "You aren't so bad."

Knifedance leaned over on his knee, looked her dead in the eye. "I would slay a thousand Alliance for you, on every battleground in Azeroth and beyond... if you would just," he whispered softly into her ear, "Come away with me."

Pasha leaned up on her elbows. "Woah."

"Dis is getting creepy mon!"

"What'd he say to me? I think it was something about starting a war over me or something?"

"Not quite, you entrancing war maiden, my beautiful thunder of the gods..." he answered Pasha. "But perhaps I can help you, it seems you have never done battle with powerful words before? Would you like to come with me, for a ride on my white wolf, or no?"

Pasha found herself smiling. "Well... I am sort of kidnapped right now. I have to go home, to Sen'jin Village."

"No! Pasha, shh!"

"Quiet, you faceless Peon!" Knifedance cursed Shia'jin over his shoulder. "That sounds like a yes to me. But I'll need more." he lovingly took her hand. "Tell me, when you look at me, what do you see, savage wench? What do you feel? How would you compare it? Speak to me in tongues."

Pasha swallowed nervously. "Umm... uh... well..." suddenly her eyes sparked with understanding. "When I look at you, Knifedance, I know that it is a good day to die."

Knifedance gasped.

Pasha went on, "I would make war by your side, till we were both covered in battle-scars. You will shed the blood with your knives, and I will crack the thunder over their heads with my boomstick. Let's not waste any time, Knifedance!"

"Oh, you are a natural, Orc woman. I say, slay them all!" he responded and swept Pasha up off the ground. Then he helped her into the saddle.

"Hey mon! Where you goin' with my sista!" Shia'jin shouted as they rode off together. But neither of them looked back.

"Awww... NOOO! My sista's become a roleplayer! Mom and dad gonna kill me!"

_Later on the summit of Dreadmist Peak..._

The happy blue sky was shrouded by a thick red mist. But for some reason... the Plainstriders kept strolling around as if there was nothing evil on the mountain top.

Faltheriel shushed the family squabble that managed to bubble up on the ride over.

"Now, listen here." he raised his hands with caution. "As of right now, you are all members of the Burning Legion."

"WHAT!" Shadowstep flared.

"Shh! We did it _your_ way when we went into the Undercity. This is our version of Undercity as far as the Barrens is concerned. A secret meeting place that few people know about. They call themselves the Burning Blade, and may have some loose affiliation with the Shadow Council... but really it's all connected. There was a corporate merger a while back... you know how office politics are."

The Night Elves just stared at him.

Faltheriel cleared his throat. "Well, anyways, as I was saying... all you need to do is agree with everything that I say and follow my lead. And here, put this on as a disguise."

He reached into his cloak and handed them a pocket-sized black bottle of something.

Shadowstep snatched it up before anyone else could and inspected it. "Oil of... Villainy?" he read. "What in the hell–"

"It's that lotion I was telling Shia'jin about. It will cause all you to give off an evil fel aura, so that you fit in. Cute isn't it? I was tempted to get the cotton blossom scent, but it just wasn't _evil_ enough, you know?"

"We are _not_ wearing this!" Shadowstep objected.

Opalbane had somehow got the bottle away from him and was already rubbing some on. They looked at her, shocked.

"What? So, I guess I still have some cultist tendencies... it's not bad, actually." then she smelled her hands and sighed happily. "Oh, how I've missed the smell of brimstone...Mmmmmm"

Faltheriel smiled. "You know, the Burning Legion is a lot like a cult, Bloodthistle. We could sure use a capable shadowpriestess..."

"NO!"All of Opalbane's relatives shouted at once.

Faltheriel put his Demon Ranger armor back on, and it suddenly became obvious who appreciated the look back near the Undercity. As they walked through the Burning Blade camp, Opalbane drifted ever so closer to him with every step... Alessandre flushed with jealousy and grabbed his wife's hand.

Thankfully, Faltheriel hadn't noticed. "Hey there, Sally, how's the family?" A very ugly Orc woman who snarled at everyone cheered on seeing the Blood Elf and waved back. The Night Elves remembered their instructions and waved too. Her suspicious glare faded.

Then, to a male Orc who grunted and wandered around holding a torch in the center of the spooky camp: "Hey, Bloodvenomeister... I see you got that raise... a torch-bearer, nice!" he gave the Orc a high five. The Night Elves crowded in and each gave the man high-fives in turn.

Finally, they made their way over to what looked to be the center of operations, a cave guarded by Orcs.

"Hey there, Gary." Faltheriel said to one of them standing near the dark entrance of the cave. "That Demon Seed isn't destroyed again, is it? Gotta call the old boss-man, and check in. You know how it is..."

"Wow. They're sooo organized..." Opalbane confided in her husband. Alessandre glared down at her.

Gary looked over Faltheriel's shoulder. "I don't know..." He scrutinized the Night Elves and everyone held their breaths. "She's been acting up lately, don't think it can handle a conference call. I tried to get IT over and fix it but those damn Imp Technicians... never reliable."

Faltheriel winked at his new family members and gave them a thumbs-up. "Oh, that's fine. I'm the only one who needs to do the talking, if it becomes a problem."

On an altar just inside the small cave, among melted candles, a pile of ruined skulls and other creepy offerings, hovered a shard of red crystal. The Demon Seed.

Faltheriel pulled out his strange blue glowing chalk and drew some lines underneath it. Then he waited. Nothing happened.

Gary poked his head in. "Ya gotta... you know, jiggle it." Faltheriel and Gary did an annoying back and forth for a few minutes while the Blood Elf nudged the floating stone and Gary insisted he wasn't doing it in just the right way.

Finally, Shadowstep had enough. He drew a glittering gold Grand Marshall's sword and smacked the thing. Faltheriel gave him a dirty look, but then it started working.

"Hello? Hello?" a voice came from through the crystal. "Been trying to connect for a while... is anyone there? I think the problem's on your end. I don't have any visual."

To their horror, the red crystal projected an image of a mean looking Dreadlord. Priestess Feathershine screamed.

Faltheriel gave her a warning look.

"Well, well, well... now I can see you. And I can also see what the problem is. Faltheriel, did you know we thought you'd died? And it's a good thing too, because I was just about to send a Legion Ranger after _you_, after that mess you made in Stormwind."

Faltheriel flashed Alessandre an annoyed _I told you so_ look.

"Well, um yes..." Faltheriel laughed nervously. "I did my best, but the Human authorities gave me more trouble than I thought them capable of. I had to fake my death, restart the search for Zar'teaus."

The Dreadlord idly turned a frothing cup of something on his desk around and around. "Ah, I see. So it had nothing to do with the fact that you FAILED your mission?" He yelled the last part.

"I didn't fail! Actually, as you can see, I assembled a crack team of local cultists. Remember when I reported in and said that I had to join the Twilight Cultists in Silithus, to get closer to Zar'teaus. Well..." he cleared his throat. "Here is, um, the local Coven. I initiated them into the Burning Legion for their impressive work. They helped me to apprehend him at last."

The Dreadlord threw his head back in maniacal laughter. "Good, good... I knew we could count on you, Faltheriel. Let's see him."

Faltheriel pulled a thread of dark magic out of his sleeve. It looked like a thin line, but then he turned it sideways and it was as wide as a pane of glass. Zar'teaus was pressed flat on the inside. He didn't look happy at all.

"Ahh... very good. Heh. Here there, Zar! Long time no see... They're letting me torture you this time around. I'm really looking forward to it." The Dreadlord cracked his knuckles, and Zar'teaus whimpered through the strange black glass frame. Faltheriel laughed with his boss and flipped the thing around so that it was again a thread line that he put back into his sleeve.

"It's the latest thing," he told the Night Elves. "The prison always changes shape so that Zar'teaus doesn't even know where he is or how he is long enough to consider escape." he turned back to his boss. "Um... sir, something has come up though, and I can't just port directly back. A bit of family trouble."

"Now, Faltheriel. We went over this during orientation. When you join the Legion, we become your family. Or else the company health plan won't work for you."

Opalbane spoke up. "A company wide Health Plan? You're kidding me."

"Why yes ma'am." the Dreadlord answered her. "We cover everything, even death. Got a 401K plan... four thousand and ten gold towards your epic flying mount, that is. You'd have to raise the rest, and there are company retreats all over Azeroth and beyond. At the moment, we don't have access to the across-the-nether resorts where you can practice destroying and corrupting lesser races, but we're working on the portals at the moment. That damned Illidan..." he grunted.

Opalbane grabbed Faltheriel's arm. "Please! I want to join the Burning Legion!"

Alessandre grabbed his wife and covered her mouth. Priestess Feathershine discreetly cast a Mind Soothe spell that put the woman to sleep.

"Heh heh... now that's the kind of spunk we like, Faltheriel. A little on the strange side though, to fall asleep in the middle of a sentence. Guess she's cursed or what not. Give her my card."

"Yes Sir, but about Zar'teaus–"

"Want to dispose of him yourself, do you?"

He nodded.

"Well, I don't know. It really is against policy... and we've been looking for that one for a while."

"Sir. I'm not going to dance around the truth any longer. These Night Elves are my family members."

Shadowstep began waving his hands for the Blood Elf to stop.

"Though we are very far removed, Zar'teaus has tormented them and their ancestors for countless generations. And there is also a Troll side of the family too... I am the last surviving one with the Wrath, on the Blood Elf side. I want to kill this vile creature myself with them, out of revenge!"

The Dreadlord scratched his white chin. Purple wings flexed pensively as he thought it over.

"You know... if there's one thing we can't stand in the Burning Legion, it's people like you who don't take revenge seriously, Faltheriel."

Everyone shivered.

"Why didn't you just say so from the beginning! Go ahead, enjoy your revenge. Need more sick days for it? I'll give you some of mine..."

"Oh no sir, but that's very kind of you."

"Alright then. Faltheriel Darkweaver, I hereby deputize you. Now that you're a Burning Legion Sherriff, you can do whatever you want while on Azeroth and beyond... but mind you, I'm mostly doing it because you need to kill that Zar'teaus. Not that you haven't earned it... you're very good at what you do, young man. The Burning Legion is proud to have someone like you among our ranks. It was definitely coming your way in the first place. Alright, then anything else?"

Faltheriel blushed, looked over his shoulder, and then said. "Yes... You mentioned Illidan and I've been dying to know... have you recruited Lord Illidan yet? And what of Prince Kael'thas?"

His boss sighed. A succubus walked by in the background, carrying a stack of smoking fel green demon tomes. "Now those two are as elusive as ever. Holin' up at the Black temple at the moment. But you know, we got the strangest news the other day... they've got a casino going!"

"You don't say..."

"Yes, and it's a damned good idea... wish I could go. Shame we're on different sides of the war. Our spies send word that Illidan's Demons are cleaning up over there. Lady Vashj has a regular club going in that Lagoon they have, and I almost didn't believe this last part myself: they're planning a ball. A ball! Do you know how crazy that is? Inviting nearly every boss in Outland! But it's all Kael'thas' idea, something about him taking a queen..."

Faltheriel scowled instantly. "I bet she's a slut."

Alessandre started laughing. He remembered what Faltheriel told him in Stormwind... about how the poor Blood Elf had a crush on Prince Kael'thas, who rejected him.

Shadowstep intervened then. "Can we wrap this up, please? We've got an Old God to kill, and then I need to get away from all you weirdos."

"I couldn't agree more. Enough of office gossip." The Dreadlord said. "Alright, kiddos. Have fun killing that Old God. It'll take a small army, but should be a good time. Catch ya later, Faltheriel." Then Faltheriel's boss gave him a clawed wink-and-the-gun farewell and the red projection fizzled out.

They descended the mountain, and looked for Shia'jin for a while but couldn't find him.

Faltheriel was mumbling. "Damn that Lord Illidan. 'I'm too free-willed to join the Burning Legion'" he mocked. "Not everyone can have sexy Demon horns protruding out of their skulls, and throw a ball–A ball! In Outland and not even invite me. It's not fair! I didn't _want_ to surrender to the Shatar! I hate that Voren'thall the Seer!"

"Faltheriel! Shut up!" Shadowstep yelled. "Where _is_ that damned Troll? We have a real problem here... I think he's going to have to be the one to fix it."

Priestess Feathershine sat down on the dried up Barrens grass with the others, under the shade tree. "Wait, Jebidiath... I don't understand. What can Shia'jin do?"

A very dejected blue Troll sauntered back into their midst, dragging along his orange war raptor.

"I lost Pasha." he said in Common.

"You did WHAT!" Shadowstep balked. "She had a bad ankle, she couldn't even walk anywhere. And you're a shaman with frost shock spells and Earthbind totems... How did she escape?"

"Dis deputy of the Shattered Hand, an Orc rogue... came... wanted to arrest me for helping Night Elves sneak on a Zepplin in Grom'gol... took her on this white wolf instead." he plopped down on the ground.

Faltheriel began to smile again. "Oh, how romantic!"

Shadowstep lowered his voice. "The Shattered Hand... knows about us?"

"Who's that?" Onyxbane rubbed his fingers over the metal skull embedded in the blade of his Arcanite Reaper.

"Like the Kaldorei Rogue Network, except for the entire Horde." Shadowstep explained. "This is very bad... so very bad. "There's only one reason for someone like that to come and bother you about helping us Shia'jin. They must have been watching us ever since Stranglethorn Vale."

"That doesn't make any sense, though Shadowstep." Alessandre said. "Why not approach us _before_ we got on the zepplin to either Undercity or Orgrimmar. This person could have prevented our coming to Horde Lands in the first place but he chose not to. Nor did he reveal himself to Shia'jin or Faltheriel–who he could have easily assumed were Horde–and confront them? Why now, when our group finally separated?"

Shadowstep stood. "The Horde must know about Zar'teaus. This was done on purpose, to get the Troll and the Orc out of the way, before they took action against citizens of Darnassus." He eyed Faltheriel. "When that Orc rogue saw you take us up to Dreadmist Peak, he probably figured out that you weren't Horde... now we're all targets. But why not surprise us with an army? They knew we were coming, what were they waiting for?"

Alessandre insisted, "But they didn't take Shia'jin and Pasha... just Pasha. It's almost as if he were singling out–"

"He fell in love wit my sista. I tink dat's why he forgot about arresting me. For now..." Shia'jin frowned.

Onyxbane scratched his head. "Alright, I don't know anything about the Orcs falling in love part, but the rest is starting to connect with something I've seen before... There was this Orc rogue in Silithus, when I went ahead of Feathershine and everyone else to rescue Opalbane a few months back." Onyxbane looked up. "Shadowstep, that Orc was there with your contacts who were watching my sister. I told him and the Human rogues all about our family background, in exchange for information on where to find Opalbane. Maybe it's a long shot, but... if this is an Orc rogue who understands our conversations in Common... who knew where to find us in Stranglethorn Vale when we _ported_ there with Faltheriel's help... he knows that you are the Master Rogue of Darnassus." Onyxbane pointed to his mother next. "And that you are a Priestess of Elune... and that you all have friends in very high places."

"It's got international incident written all over it." Alessandre covered his mouth, thinking of the implications.

Shadowstep paced in a circle. "This is very, very bad. For now at least, thanks to your sister, that Shattered Hand deputy is distracted. Maybe that will buy us some time." He scratched his violet jaw. "We need to get out of Horde lands and fast... but Zar'teaus has to die first, or else it'll never get done. Shia'jin, I was hoping you would help with that... I know a little something about raiding guilds, but you're going to have to fill me in. Do they have the manpower to say, oh I don't know... kill an Old God?"

Shia'jin shrugged. "We go into Molten Core and kill Ragnaros lots of times before the Burning Crusade. Ragnaros be like an Old God, he kept resurrecting himself though, it was annoying. But dat take lots of coordination. Forty man raid, like a small army. Nobody do dat anymore... all da dungeons in Outland be far less complicated, only take ten good raiders, tops."

Feathershine caught onto what Shadowstep was saying. "But... is there any way at all that your guild might be convinced to pull together and help us? They sound very organized... and right now, I'm afraid that we don't have any other options. We don't have time," she glanced at Shadowstep, "Nor are we at liberty to ask for reinforcements from Darnassus. As you may have already guessed from what my son, son-in-law, and... boyfriend have been saying, we're in a great deal of trouble with very important Alliance people as it is. Going as far up as High Priestess Tyrande." she winced. "They can't know what we're doing out here."

"I don't know... maybe I can convince Guild Master Ninthius," he lost heart, "but I can't face dem again, not after Flathoof."

Faltheriel went and sat beside Shia'jin. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Brother, you knew that this day was coming. You can't live your life in the darkness any longer. Your refusing to come out of the closet could cost lives. We need you, to finally be honest with yourself and everyone else."

Shia'jin rubbed his hands nervously. "Alright... everyone, I'm gay."

The Night Elves just stared. "We knew that," Opalbane responded groggily. "Besides, we're Night Elves. Lots of people in the Alliance are always accusing our men of the same. Most of the time, they're probably right." she shrugged.

Faltheriel patted Shia'jin on the back. "You see? It could go very well. I'll go with you right now to Orgrimmar before that Orc deputy comes back, and talk to this Guild Master Ninthius. We will explain everything to him together. Now, what's the name of this raiding guild of yours? Maybe I've heard of it..."

"Midnight's Gap."

"That's the dumbest guild name I ever heard..." Shadowstep started complaining.

"Hey, lay off mon! We wanted Twilight's Void but it was already taken. Can't have everything you want in life. Geez."

Faltheriel summoned his hawkstrider and they mounted up. "We're going for reinforcements." he told them. "And to get Shia'jin out of the closet."

"Yes, we know." Shadowstep waved a hand at them dismissively. "Enough of a dramatic exit, just go away."

Faltheriel and Shia'jin rode off into the Barrens sunset, kicking up clouds of golden dust behind them.

"Look mon... thank you so much for helping me, ever since Stranglethorn Vale. I'm scared though." he told the Blood Elf from high up on his raptor.

"Don't worry, brother of mine. We'll get through this together."

"Maybe, if tings go well... I can fix your teeth for you, as a thank you?"

Faltheriel wheeled his bird mount around. They stopped. "You... can fix my teeth? You'd do that for me?"

Shia'jin shrugged. "Ya mon, you don't have big tusks like mine all your life and not learn how to fix 'em after slamming dem in doors and such. You still got dem teeth Alessandre knocked out of your mouth?"

Faltheriel pulled on a gold chain around his neck. There they were.

"Good. Now dat we brothas, I'm not afraid to reach in your mouth. I fix em for you."

They rode on in silence for a while.

"Why were you afraid to work on my teeth before, Shia'jin?"

Shia'jin looked away. "Cause... I didn't trust myself... not to get too carried away. Don't look at me like that, you know you're good-looking, everyone does!" he grunted.

Faltheriel smiled to himself. "You know, Shia'jin, there's something very appealing about you, riding high up there on your war raptor..."

"Mon! For da last time! INCEST!"

Faltheriel smirked, "What if I told you... that I know I'm not related to you, or any of the others. I could read Shadowstep's mind right away back when we were in Silverpine Forest. But at the same time, I also saw how much he cared for Feathershine, and worried about Alessandre and the rest. That was when I understood how loving that family truly was. I wanted to belong somewhere at last, and I really wanted to help them... without going against my duties as a Burning Legion officer. I sort of... adopted all those romancers. Don't tell them I said that, though."

"And when we start datin' and holdin' hands and all that, you don't think they gonna' get wise?"

Faltheriel smiled even wider. "So nice to know, Shia'jin, that you're interested."

They passed the rest of the ride to Orgrimmar in contented, and slightly disturbed silence.

Author's Note:

Yes, I know, shameless plug for the next chapter of My Life for My Prince. But, honestly, I'm so excited about the Ball at the Black Temple. Should be a fun write. By the way, I don't see these two fanfictions as having anything to do with each other. That was just for fun, because Faltheriel needed some annoying office gossip for Shadowstep to interrupt. Happy reading!


	22. Killing Zar'teaus OLD SCHOOL p1

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

Thank you readers, for your patience and your support while I struggled to write a finale to my fanfiction series, that might actually honor my beloved and cooky raiding guildmates. Before I moved to an RP server, these were some of the many the wonderful _people _I called home in the World of Warcraft. I wish that I had the time to get to know everyone in the guild and write about them all, but I couldn't. Tried my darnedest to mention as many people as I could though. To all those "Midnight's Gappers" who might be reading… now you know how my crazy RP mind works. Fwhahahahaaaa!

Isn't it a delightfully horrifying revelation? For you, from Pasha…

**Episode Twenty-two: Killing Zar'teaus, OLD SCHOOL, Part I**

Guild Master Ninthius rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You… want a superior raiding guild, famous within the Horde for its consistent murdering of challenging world bosses, and now beyond Azeroth since the Burning Crusade started, to kill an Old God in Rage Fire Chasm!"

The blue Troll Shaman Shia'jin and his boyfriend the Blood Elf Faltheriel shared a look. They were a more than disturbing couple. Anyone could see that, whether it was readily apparent that Faltheriel was a high-ranking member of the Burning Legion or not.

"Boss… it not be like dat." Shia'jin said. "You see, cause Faltheriel's with the Burning Legion, we not have to kill anybody in dere. We just need to release Zar'teaus and den his Burning Blade Cultist friends will help us."

"So, you want all forty of my men to pose as members of the Burning Legion, ontop of neglect an already busy raiding schedule?"

The Blood Elf and the Troll shrugged.

"Well… it'll be a first on the forums, that's for sure. And Laci tells me that there is a 0.01 chance that an epic bind-on-pickup tanking sword might drop off this Old God Zar'teaus… and I _do_ have Olim to think about… fine. Eat that Apocalypse WOW!"

"Apocolypse, whaaa… and who's Olim?"

Shia'jin shushed Faltheriel. "He be obsessed with his life before the Scourge make him Undead. Before the Lich King take him, his name used to be Olim. Also mumble about a guild called Apocalypse WOW nobody care about. Don't pay him any mind."

Ninthius glared at them. "Excuse me, weirdos, but I have a guild to manage. The hunter class leader and my executive officer Staci will help you gather everyone." He left the Midnight's Gap guild house in the Valley of Honor in Orgrimmar.

An oddly pleasant Orc woman strode into the room then. "I heard everything that Ninthius said. How many raiders will you need?"

Faltheriel really started to grin at Staci. The superior hunter seemed just as skilled as Pasha in her stoic demeanor, but was a far more classy.

"Say there, Staci, have you ever been with a Blood Elf—"

"I'm a guy in real life." Staci cut Faltheriel right off.

"Alright, I admit that doesn't make sense but… really, that's even better—"

"You supposed to be dating me!" Shia'jin ended it with that. Faltheriel sheepishly apologized to his new boyfriend.

Staci rolled his (or her?) eyes. "Forty right? A small army is about forty people, eight raiding parties with five soldiers of each possible class. I'll go round up the troops." Then Laci walked up the winding ramp inside the clubhouse. At the top of the tower was a huge bonfire. The Orc hunter pulled the Midnight's Gap banner, a red cloth painted with streaks of gold lightning bolts off the wall and waved it over the flames. Puffs of smoke floated up through the hole in the tower roof. Then, far to the south on the continent in Kalimdor, drums beat in Thunderbluff. Eerie bells rang in Undercity. Word spread as far as Shattrath City and the Valley of Wisdom was suddenly bustling with soldiers portaling in from Shatthrath City in Outland.

Faltheriel peered outside, and throngs of Horde soldiers, he'd never seen so many in such rare epic armor before, were coming up the road to the clubhouse. Shia'jin yanked the strangely handsome Blood Elf away from the doorway just in time.

"I'm going to need a hell of a lot more lotion." Faltheriel suddenly worried.

Trolls, Orcs, Undead, Tauren, and a few Blood Elves peered over each other's shoulders to get a look at the primitive message board. A hide scroll had several messages pinned on it with shards of metal and bone. The largest one said:

_Mandatory raid on Zar'teaus in Ragefire Chasm, 9 PM server time. _

They started to complain instantly.

Binah, a brown and white spotted Tauren woman was the loudest. "Awww! I ran from a battlegrounds for this? Err… I mean, I was practicing healing people for…"

"I knew it!" the paladin Tempestraven yelled over the other mumbling people.

"So what! You're still protection specced!" Granthoris, a blonde paladin yelled at her.

"None of the paladins are specced properly for healing at the moment, so nobody make fun of anyone else!" A paladin named Communism admonished his fellows. He often bragged that he had a Hammer and Sickle of justice spell.

"Everyone, listen up!" Staci shouted over them all. "This is mandatory, someone in the Midnight's Gap family has an emergency in Ragefire Chasm, however noobish it is, and we're gonna' help him out. If you don't come…"

"Minus fifty DKP…" everyone groaned together.

"Right… oh, and we're changing to a new loot system next week."

"So who cares if we lose fifty DKP then?" A Tauren warrior called Muddyhorn said next. Everyone started laughing.

"Just do it, okay! And everyone had better have their consumables: healing potions, flasks of power, bandages... she eyed an Undead nearby. _And_ deodorant." Staci waggled a maternal finger. "And no ports for late people! If you d/c or AFK, you stay that way and we sub in someone else, got it!" Staci pushed through the crowd and left, epic bow in hand, to go make ready.

Faltheriel hugged Shia'jin. "This is wonderful! This is better than a small army… the others will be impressed. Now aren't you glad you came out of the closet?"

Some of his excited guildmates nearby hushed and eyed Shia'jin curiously. "You went back in the closet? A tall Tauren shaman named Smackwrath asked. He was holding his favorite weapon though it was a bit outdated, a Hand of Ragnaros.

A Troll rogue named Kisami was standing next to him. She scratched her long blue hair. "No… because then… he'd be going in only to come back out… after already being in…" she confused herself with the sense it didn't make.

"Everybody knew I be gay already?" Shia'jin looked disappointed.

"Duh…" an Undead named Geoff said. "What we didn't get was why you were wasting time on that Flathoof. Do you know he robbed the guild bank before he left? Sure he only got that leftover Giantstalker's belt no one wanted, but he was a jackass. I never _seen_ someone need-roll so very many times."

"Huh." Shia'jin blinked. "So Flathoof be a loser, who knew dat, mon!"

Faltheriel chuckled and kissed Shia'jin on the cheek. "You're cute when you're naVve… Now come on, let's go smuggle your relatives into the city."

The melon cart charade worked its magic again, but to be careful they made all the rogues pile in with Onyxbane, Opalbane, and Feathershine. They sat three on one side and two on the other side of the covered cart, their backs to either wall.

"Those drums… make my pulse race!" Onyxbane observed, eyes wide in the darkness.

"So delightfully evil… do they beat them like that all day?" Opalbane whispered next.

"They're so loud that you can't hear the birds singing though." Feathershine pouted.

"Can we _please_ try not to admire the Horde while we're in Orgrimmar? I'd hate to get stuck here because someone gets carried away and decides to switch factions!" Shadowstep glared at Opalbane, who was trying to lift the edge of the cover and peer out.

"By Elune! Everything is covered with animal hides! Do you know how much senseless murder of local wildlife that takes… oh… I like this very much!"

Somewhere outside the cart, Shia'jin shushed them.

They left the Valley of Honor and came to a quieter part of the city, and finally the Cleft of Shadow.

"This is where the Shattered Hand is rumored to have its headquarters." Shadowstep whispered to them all. "It's so tempting to sneak out and have a look around."

Feathershine narrowed her long green eyebrows at him and clamped her hand around his wrist. _No…_She mouthed.

The dark purple light that seeped into the cart turned to a burnt orange fog and it started to get very hot.

"Gary! You got transferred into the Ragefire Chasm? Nice promotion!" they heard Faltheriel say. That was the cue to put the lotion on. Shadowstep passed around the tiny black bottle.

At last, the cart stopped.

Alessandre cracked his knuckles. "Shadowstep, if this army of Horde raiders turns on us, just what are we supposed to do? Those three, including my wife, can't vanish. And if I turn into a Nightsaber in front of them…"

"Alessandre… sometimes when you're a rogue, you have to trust strangers."

The handsome Night Elf man scowled. "I'd rather trust my daggers, and failing there my claws."

"Shia'jin _is_ our dagger." Shadowstep told him when at last the cover to the cart was pushed aside.

Shia'jin and a hard as nails bald Undead man greeted them.

"I'm Guild Master Ninthius." He folded his bony hands behind his back, then turned around and nodded at the throngs of Horde soldiers readying for war. They'd slaughtered a chamber full of ape-like Troggs to create a staging ground for their attack. "This is Midnight's Gap. Maybe you'll get tempted and try to get a few honor kills off my men… but I don't have a leash on them. However, you'd soon learn that's your problem, not mine. You see, every one of them is an elite soldier in his or her own right, and I went a step further than even their natural talents. I trained them to use their exceptional skills to kill people in the most efficient and destructive matter possible, and I only did that so that they could move onto the next victim in short order. That is what a raiding guild does. That is what they will do to you if you go too far. I promised Shia'jin that I would help him, but I didn't pledge the allegiance of Midnight's Gap to any of you Night Elves, or your benign _god_. We're here to down Zar'teaus and that's it. Any questions?"

Shia'jin translated.

"Tell him that I want to join his guild—" Alessandre reached around and covered Opalbane's mouth with his black gloved hand.

"Don't translate that, Shia'jin. Just tell him that we're ready." Shadowstep met the Undead man's eye. "And ask him… where does he want us?"

A long file of soldiers rolled their shoulders and waited patiently to get geared up for the battle.

"Dat be Staci, the hunter class leader." Shia'jin started to give them a short tour after Ninthius gave them directions. Staci stood behind a rickety wooden table. On his left was a stack of fresh Burning Blade tabards. On his right were containers of various other implements no one recognized. A particularly gross jar full of something that looked like leeches caught Faltheriel's eye.

"I have to ask… what is that? And why is everyone putting them on their necks?"

"Oh, that's Vent."

"What?"

"Ventrillo… a parasite dat allows you to hear everyone in da raid and talk to them at once. It save lots a time, mon, and be useful if somebody screw up big time… we find out about it right away, not after we wipe."

"Wipe? What?" Feathershine wondered.

"It's raider talk. To wipe is to die… and Vent is standard in many raiding guilds, though on Alliance side, they use a less intrusive Gnomish device that people wear around their necks. Not to be mean, but I think the Horde couldn't copy the technology and just named the parasite after it." Shadowstep grumbled, and kept scanning their surroundings, golden grand marshal swords drawn.

"No, da Gnomes copy us. The Undead develop da bug in the Apothecarium… it work better den some stupid necklace box."

Shadowstep rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Where will the rogues be standing?"

They passed by a crowd of soldiers who watched an Undead priestess floating on the air. It was hard to just walk by.

"Oh Oracle of Midnight's Gap!" an Undead rogue in a terrifying black and red hooded mask knelt before her and bowed his head. "What news does the future bring? Will the fates treat my class well?"

Hinma, the Oracle raised her eyes to the ceiling covered in stalactites. "Ohhhhh… I see, I see… the nerfing of a windfury totem."

A Tauren shaman in the crowed, named Oxy stomped his hoof and swore.

"I see… ohhhh I see the coming of a heroic class…"

The Undead rogue, named Fleshwound looked up hopefully. "Will it be some kind of super rogue? That would be sweet…"

Hinma looked down from her dark conjuring. "Really! Do you ever read my patch notes? There's nothing like that at all! Blizz is going to put Deathknights in the expansion and open up Northrend…"

"No!" a Troll Priestess named Suweel cried. "That means the Alliance will probably get Pandaren… I want to play with a Murloc or a Naga in the warm south seas, or go to Undermine…"

Shia'jin left the translating to Faltheriel at that point and ducked behind him. Suweel was one of his many sisters.

"No one wants to play with Murlocs, Suweel! That's so stupid." Fleshwound got on her for interrupting his session with the Oracle.

Hinma nodded. "Yes, my child, that will be in the other expansion anyways… called Under the South Seas,"

"Oooooh, Aaaaaah." All the Horde gasped in awe.

"One last thing, great Hinma. What will the weather be like tomorrow? My son Marrowstinger has a thing…"

Shadowstep grabbed Faltheriel by the shoulder and turned him around. "No more translating this foolishness… we need to get into position."

Alessandre and Shadowstep ended up with the rogues. An unusually tall, blue-haired Troll man sized them up and then sauntered over.

"I'm Groljimmy." He pointed to himself and shook their hands. Then he started to say a lot of other nice things too, about the weather, offered them hot cocoa, complimented them saying that they appeared to be geared well, and if they wanted any conjured bread or help with anything in Outland after the raid was over?

Of course, neither Alessandre nor Shadowstep understood this.

"I think he's threatening us…" Alessandre whispered in Common.

"Well that's new." Shadowstep rolled his eyes at Alessandre and folded his arms across his chest.

Before he walked away, Groljimmy handed them two huge vials of something. He smiled, and waved his hands about, urging them to drink.

"Could be poison," Alessandre worried.

Shadowstep snatched one, sniffed it and then tossed it back. "Stop worrying about everything, Al. Don't you know a good Elixir of the Mongoose when you see one?" he finished it and handed the empty vial to kindly Groljimmy.

Alessandre mumbled something under his breath about not needing any enhancement whatsoever to improve his performance in combat or otherwise.

Next, Shia'jin stopped at the priests.

Guatanamo the Undead priest class leader was very unhappy to see the blue Troll drop off two Night Elves. Not that he didn't know there would be Alliance at the raid. Ninthius was very good with all his officers and they always knew what was going on beforehand. It was Opalbane he disliked the most.

He tapped her on the shoulder. "Why are you specced for shadow? Everyone here is specced to heal!"

Opalbane shook her head that she didn't understand, while Shia'jin quickly translated. When he was done, Opalbane scowled at Guatanamo.

"You're a shadowpriest yourself!"

Guatanamo laughed at her. "There is only one dedicated shadowpriest in this guild, and I'm it. Now are you going to respec?"

"No, considering Darnassus is so far away." She answered through Shia'jin.

Guatanamo thought about this for a while. "Alright then. You can be _my_ personal healer, how's that."

Opalbane objected, but her mother encouraged her to do as she was told.

Guatanamo turned to face his small company of priests. "Let that be an example to all of you… who would dare nerf the healing strength of this guild to further your own player versus player goals!" then he snapped at Opalbane who sneered at him and followed him into position.

Last were the warriors.

"Dis be my long lost brotha, Onyxbane." Shia'jin introduced Onyxbane to Ammy, the warrior class leader.

"He'll do, I guess." The Undead warrior said, "Though I don't like that he hasn't got a shield."

Shia'jin folded his arms, then smiled and said, "What was that? I can't unnerstand you, mon, cause of da Dalaran accent. And dat be weird because where you born again, mon? Lordaeron?"

Ammy sighed with irritation. In his previous life, the Undead man had been a resident of Dalaran. There was an old joke that Dalaranians sounded snooty and highbrow because of all the scholars who lived in that magical Human kingdom, especially the Kirin Tor. The kingdoms of Lordaeron and Dalaran weren't so far from each other, and though Ammy was a respectable tank, his guildmates loved insulting the man by denying his true nationality and saying that he was really one of the poor blokes Prince Arthas fooled when he destroyed his own kingdom, like sheep to the slaughter. Oh, and yeah, sheep—that was another thing they always teased Ammy about.

"Look here, mate, stop being an arsehole! Get over with Oxy before I knock your block off, you wally! Damn Yanks have no respect for Kiwis..."

Ammy had a similar argument with Onyxbane about his non-tanking spec. A lot less verbose than his sister Opalbane, Onyxbane simply made a show of sharpening his Arcanite Reaper. No translation needed there.

Shia'jin passed the druids, led by Desdemona who was already twisting gleefully in her tree form with the other druids in their various forms. There wasn't any music, but they were dancing up a storm. Finally, Shia'jin and came to where he was meant to be, with the shamans.

The paladins were right nextdoor, which still felt weird to Shia'jin. Midnight's Gap had been a successful raiding guild since before the Blood Elves joined the Horde.

Tempestraven, wearing a blonde wig today, waved at him. For some reason, Viviendo was wearing a poofy red wig, goggles that covered most of her face, and stood off to the side, pretending that she didn't know any of them. Unbeknownst to the guild, Viviendo had pulled off another Thelma and Louise style bank heist, except that Tempestraven forgot to show up, the whole thing backfired, and now both women were in the process of changing their identities again. Sadly, the two of them decided to leave and go to different servers after this last raid was over. Well… maybe it wasn't so sad. Tempestraven was really a cold-hearted bitch and no one could stand her. An aura of relief was already beginning to settle over the paladins, though few of them really knew what was going on. As of yet, they weren't that organized and didn't have a class leader.

Oxy, the shaman class leader came and tapped Shia'jin on the shoulder using one meaty Tauren finger. "I almost gkicked your ass, did you know that? How many raids did you think you could skip before we noticed what was going on? Hmm? Karazhan doesn't raid itself you know!"

"Mon… I'm really sorry, but I had dis family emergency…" he gestured towards the center of the space where Faltheriel was tossing the flat paned magical glass cage Zar'teaus was in, into the air and catching it over and over. The old god's muffled screams were more than unsettling.

Oxy scratched his head. "Oh… well that makes sense, I guess. Glad you're back man. And congratulations on finally meeting someone decent." He meant Faltheriel.

Shia'jin raised both his eyebrows. "Mon, dat one be faaar from decent. Past indecent even."

Both Oxy and Shia'jin watched, disturbed, as Faltheriel conjured up his green fel armor. Oxy looked at Shia'jin sideways. "Before you say anything else about that boyfriend of yours… may I remind you that the shaman have always had a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy, especially when months-long personal missions induced by Far Seers are involved." Then Oxy hurried away before Shia'jin could explain anything else.

_Everyone into positions…_

Ammy the warrior class leader who also served as the raid announcer said through Vent. People all around the room tapped the strange parasites on their necks and responded back with various comments about him being from Lordaeron, dating sheep, and not being able to understand his accent.

_SHUT IT, YOU YANKS! _

Was Ammy's immediate response.

The warlocks followed the tanks who headed up the march into the depths of Ragefire Chasm where the Burning Blade cultists were. The shaman were immediately after, then the paladins, rogues, priests, and druids in the back, in case they got ambushed from behind, the guild would have reasonable tanks and healers at the ready.

An Orc woman with a high red ponytail named Wormarkaya walked beside a second Orc warlock named Bonita. Bonita had an accident with the warlock trainer when she was younger and as a result, spoke Demonic better than she did Orcish. Her good friend Wormarkaya helped translate.

They slowed their walking and tapped Shia'jin on the shoulder. "Bonita wants to know where your sister Pasha is."

"Oh, hey dere, Wormy."

Wormy hated her nickname, she'd been teased about it for her entire life. For that reason, she'd resulted to coming up with her own sorts of swearwords, from back when she was a kid and got so angry with the other novices during lessons but wasn't aloud to cuss so profusely.

"HAT! I HAT you, Shia'jin, stop calling me that."

Of course, it was fun to get Wormarkaya that angry.

Her boyfriend, an Undead rogue named Aglompin tried to defend her when the other guild members hurled a slew of insults her way regarding her sorry warlock dps, her mis-matched raiding sets that were all different tiers, and of course finally came the chanting:

_Wormeeey, Wormeeeeeey, Wormeeeeeeeeey…_

Through Vent.

"DIAF!"

"Diaf? What dat mean, Wormy?"

Wormarkaya screamed with rage and cast a painful incinerate spell on Shia'jin. "Die in a fire!" she translated, and Bonita had to wrap arms around the other Orc warlock to drag her back.

Several minutes of marching later, and they were among the Burning Blade cultists. Faltheriel had a concerned look that whole time while he healed Shia'jin through the abnormally long-lasting incinerate spell.

Guild Master Ninthius leaned over and whispered to the Blood Elf shadowpriest Faltheriel, "This had better work, or else I am going to order my officers to have their men turn this place inside out."

"It'll work." Came his muffled response from under the black helmet that didn't even have a hole for him to breathe out of.

"What is that, Tier Eight shadowpriest gear? Why does it look like plate, and how come there's no robe involved?"

"I'm a Burning Legion Ranger." Faltheriel produced a black lasso out of nowhere and Impsy hopped along behind him, chitter-chattering.

Faltheriel greeted his Burning Blade cultist contacts as he strutted to the center of the large cavern they entered. Various stone ramparts crisscrossed over red lava flows to meet at a platform in the center. Faltheriel had told the large demon Tangaran the Hungerer to take the day off if he didn't want to feel slighted by him leading everyone for a few hours. Clearly, Tangaran had made his choice.

Everyone held their breaths while the odd Blood Elf man set the Old God Zar'teaus' two-dimensional prison down in the center of a complex, pre-drawn demonic rune the Orc cultists had prepared.

"You know this one's boss encounter?" Ninthius leaned over and whispered to Staci the hunter.

The female Orc who said 'he was a guy in real life,' whatever that meant, whispered back, "Next to nothing is known about the Old God Zar'teaus, though I think Ammy might have had a chat with Faltheriel about it already. I checked all of my sources, pored through countless documents… the only thing I found was that he has a terrible debuff called the Wrath, which he can spam. And amazingly enough, a rogue in the Shattered Hand called Knifedance offered to pay me gold to throw this whole thing and let the Night Elves die, can you believe it?"

"How much gold?" Ninthius raised a rotting eyebrow.

"Several epic flying mounts' worth, sir… Enough to buy one for everyone in this guild and their mothers."

"Did you take it?"

"Sir! This is for a fellow guild member, a member of the Midnight's Gap family. I could never do something like that, and he's related to these Night Elves so…"

"Staci, you noob. I would have taken the gold."

Staci covered her mouth in shock. "You… I can't believe it sir, but you're our Guild Master?"

"Olim needs money for gear."

"Olim… sir?" Staci worried. "You're not delving into that other personality of yours now are you? I told you to get some help for that!"

"I said no such thing!" Ninthius suddenly composed himself. "Besides, screenshots or this little conversation didn't happen."

Zar'teaus roared when he emerged in pulses of green and purple energy. Faltheriel summoned up his shadowform through his armor and whipped his lasso around in the air, roped the monster around the neck.

Ammy spoke up through the Vent system,

_The plan is to beat him up while the Legion Ranger keeps him from going into Phase Two. When I call your group number you are to hurry to the Ranger and help him out…wave your hand, Faltheriel._

Faltheriel blew a kiss to the crowd and winked at a good number of hapless victims. Shia'jin smacked his forehead.

_Do NOT forget your number during this encounter. If one person screws up we're all dead, or so Faltheriel tells me. _

"Hmm… so it's a bit like the Magtheridon encounter, isn't it? This shouldn't be too hard at all."

Ninthius grunted at Stacy. "We wipe on Mag… Stop being so damned optimistic." Then he shouted out loud, "Alright, let's do this, you noobs!"

All around the chamber, soldiers of Midnight's Void raised weapons, conjured up their first spells. Ninthius waved at Ammy and he charged in, shield and sword low. They let him build threat, draw all of Zar'teaus' aggression onto him.

Staci took over the Vent channel next.

_Light dps, I repeat, light damage spells. Use your wands, hunters use autoshot, rogues hang back…_

Zar'teaus was forced down onto his side, Faltheriel kept winding the black lasso around and around his arm, keeping the snare on him tight. The Old God swiped at Ammy recklessly at first. Priests just behind him stood by with their own personal warrior tank in case things got rough and they needed to save the healers. Opalbane grumbled as she cast small healing spells on Gauatanamo while he aggressively wanded away.

Ninthius looked up from beside Staci who was firing a steady stream of bolts in a perfect shot rotation from her gigantic eagle-shaped crossbow.

"Stac, I don't like that look in his eye… DPS off!" he shouted.

_Dps off. I repeat, Dps off. _

Surprisingly, raiding was a careful and measured experience. The raiders were excited about the fight, but they put down their wands and guns. The rogues, including Shadowstep and Alessandre, wandered anxiously in stealth behind Zar'teaus. There really wasn't such a thing as 'light dps' where rogues were concerned, and Groljimmy ordered them not to attack yet.

Nothing happened for a long time, while Ammy whacked away at Zar'teaus by himself.

"Ninthy, I don't see why you—"

All of a sudden Zar'teaus roared and released a miasma of putrid black poison.

"Warlocks dispell! Priests cleanse, mages decurse… whatever you have to do to get that filth off your neighbor." Everyone suffered for it. There weren't enough healers to pull it off.

_All heals to Ammy! _Ammy forced his voice to remain calm over Vent. _Now heals to Ex, heals to Ex… _

Ex, the other tank, struggled up alongside Ammy and attempted to help him manage aggro for a few panicked moments. It looked like both their main tanks would die.

"Well, there goes the first attempt." Staci shrugged, and feigned death. All the hunters beside him followed suit.

"Get up, Staci! Midnight's Gap can get this in one attempt, I know it."

Shia'jin jogged forward and put down a poison cleansing totem right next to the two tanks. He began healing both of them rapidly.

"You! Descendant of Jin, bearer of the Wrath!" Zar'teaus thundered and lashed out at him.

"Alright, I take that back." Ninthius grumbled to Staci.

But that was just what Ammy and Ex needed to pull back and recover. Shia'jin's many relatives cried out when Zar'teaus easily slashed him dead with one angry strike. Once the tanks got control of Zar'teaus again, though, he used his Ankh to reincarnate. Sighs of relief rose up from various Night Elves and Trolls in the room.

_He's getting loose. Group One to Faltheriel…_

The rogues decloaked and gave Faltheriel a hand in holding onto the rope.

Alessandre ended up behind the Blood Elf.

"Mmmm… so I got what I wanted afterall."

Alessandre broke down and cried.

_Good job, Group One. Now get back into position, bandage that rope-burn…_

"Hey you, Stickybethar…" he said to a young Tauren whose mouth was covered in sticky chocolate morsels and cookie crumbs. "Stop feigning death, we aren't going to wipe. You too, Punk, Harem…"

_Seventy-five percent. Good job everyone. _Ammy said.

Staci spoke next._ Alright, begin to open up that damage. Warlocks, get those dots on… hunters use your serpent stings… Rogues begin dps._

Shadowstep and Alessandre grinned when they saw the rogues finally begin to fight.

"This is so odd… fighting _beside_ an Undead rogue." Alessandre observed, while he fought next to Aglompin.

Shadowstep let out a low whistle. "His gear is better than mine… and so is his… and that Troll woman's. I certainly made the wrong career choice."

_Group Two, head over to Faltheriel…_

The shamans raced over and all reached up to help Faltheriel tug on the rope when Zar'teaus became agitated and tried to break free again.

"Come on, Shia'jin. Hold me like you mean it." Faltheriel mercilessly teased him.

"Dis not da time! You embarassin' me!"

His other sister, a shaman named Phniria laughed at him. Across the room, her white identical haired twin Shonne the mage laughed too.

"You lucky mom and dad aren't here yet… dey certainly have somethin' to say to you, all over a man like dat in front of the entire raid."

"This not be on purpose! I only doing what Ammy say!"

_Shia'jin stop being a pansy and hump your boyfriend like you mean it._

Everyone in the guild laughed outrageously at Ammy's sly revenge for the accent joke earlier.

"Mon! I hate dis guild sometimes."

Group Two finished helping Faltheriel and got back into position.

The encounter went smoothly after that. Faltheriel was perhaps doing too well though. He got himself very worked up, flirting with Opalbane and Priestess Feathershine, then Tempestraven and Viviendo again. Next was Skeedle, a cheerful female Undead warlock whose day he most certainly ruined with his 'warlocks have more stamina' comment. Poor Blastgarph got an earful about hunters having big guns and doing it with their pets… You can imagine that it got far worse from there when the druids had their turn. Finally, when Ninthius' group of mages was called, Faltheriel hit on Pathorin, and Ablemarko threatened to beat Faltheriel within an inch of his life for flirting with his wife.

"So glad that you offered… I haven't had a good beating in a very long time."

"That's it!" Ablemarko yelled and let go of the rope to cast several painful spells on Faltheriel at once. Slighted people all over the room cheered him on, some of the more angry raiders ran over and joined in. Alessandre didn't miss an opportunity to sneak over and stab Faltheriel in the back.

The lasso broke free when Faltheriel was overwhelmed and Zar'teaus went on a rampage.

"Stop dps! Stop dps!" Ninthius shouted, but everyone was so furious with Faltheriel they didn't hear him, nor did they hear Ammy's desperate cries for them to heal the tanks. Later everyone in the guild would say it was Ammy's accent that caused the problem. Staci would then try to ease the tension by reminding everyone of all the times he or his pet Tanuki caused various raid wipes in everyplace from Molten Core to Karazhan, to that time in Naxxramas when the floating fortress tipped over and there was zero gravity for like five seconds, and his arcane shot hovered midair like they were inside the Matrix before shooting through the first pull, every subsequent mob and finally hitting the last boss. They died laughing their asses off that day.

But for now,

_BUGGER! That's a wipe! Run out if you can… _Ammy yelled over Vent, his diplomatic tone tossed to the winds.

That normally worked in every other dungeon, but the maze of stone ramparts and lava flows, the Burning Blade Cultists who stopped fighthing but had noplace to run to, since Orgrimmar was full of their enemies, and Zar'teaus' slow aura that had hobbled Pasha days earlier came unexpectedly and snared everyone while he killed them.

"Noo! We are at fifty percent!" Ninthius cried. "We're so close."

"It was a good attempt." Staci pleasantly observed and then feigned death again with the other hunters.

Ninthius dragged his bony hands down the sides of his face. "I think I know why you can be so cheerful Staci. IT'S EASY WHEN YOU CAN FEIGN DEATH AT THE WORST POSSIBLE MOMENT!"

Seeing your men die was always heartwrenching for a Guild Master. Ninthius especially, had started Midnight's Gap years ago, had been the stalwart leader since the beginning. The success of the guild meant everything to him, his officers understood that better than even the raiders themselves. Blood, sweat, tears… 'and semen' an Undead rouge named Boilo would always add at the end, had gone into making the guild great. Ninthy recalled Boilo now with a faint smile had gone into Midnight's Gap. And there were so many others who had come and gone, fought so hard to get everyone this far. All to die like this in Ragefire Chasm of all places?

That pissed Ninthius off the most.

A gigantic fireball seared the air, and turned the dark twilight void of the cave into daylight it was so bright. It hit Zar'teaus so hard, it took off one of his rotting arms.

Severed rope flying, the Old God shrieked in a thousand evil voices. "Who DARES challenge the great raptor god Zar'teaus!"

Ninthius cackled at him and sent another wild fireball at the monster. The remaining raiders of Midnight's Gap looked up from where they had been fleeing to, and saw a miraculous sight. It was what they had only teased Ninthius about, never dreamed could actually happen…

Ammy and Ex had died, but Ninthius the mage was tanking.

"Dps on! Dps on! Full out, light'er up!" Ninthius yelled to those who found the strength to stand.

Staci knew a wipe when he saw one, and didn't get back up. Ninthius was sure to kick the clever Orc hunter when he passed by, kiting Zar'teaus with frostbolts around the room.

It was a difficult thing to do without plate, or effective taunts to get the monster off the few healers. It wouldn't last forever…

"Zar'teaus is only at ten precent! Come on guys, we got this!"

Onyxbane and Opalbane rushed forward. Alessandre turned himself into a bear, which startled some of the Horde rogues…

"No, don't." Priestess Feathershine prevented her son-in-law from rushing in and stealing the tanking role from Ninthius. "It's a delicate dance between life and death, the likes of which I have never seen before… don't dare disturb what Ninthius has set forth. There is no telling what could happen if Zar'teaus is distracted now."

Shadowstep rushed at Zar'teaus from behind, and began slashing with his golden swords. Alessandre shifted into his cat form and raced after him.

They did everything they could, but in the end, it was not enough.

The ground shook, some of the stone ramps along the walls cracked and tore apart. Zar'teaus had fully entered Phase Two.

The dormant Wrath within Zar'teaus finally manifested itself. When he should have been nearly dead, the ancient power arose within the Old God. The sleek body of an enormous red Devilsaur evolved from the smoky remnants of his body. The terrifying creature laughed in a shriek that could have chilled blood, shattered bone from the marrow freezing on the inside.

Down on one knee, Ninthius expended his mana on one last huge fireball. His first one had taken off one of Zar'teaus' limbs. This second one, Zar'teaus was ready for with opened jowls full of dagger teeth. The angry Old God swallowed it whole.

Zar'teaus laughed and roared. "I invoked my final spell, summon the last of my strength through the great anger you ignited in me, pathetic Undead mage. Think you that freedom from the Lich King was a relief? You will beg again for that kind of life, after you experience the kind of pain I'm capable of dealing to those who anger the Great God Zar'teaus!"

For all the professional carnage Midnight's Gap was known far and wide for deftly dealing… it had not been enough. Zar'teaus raised a huge clawed foot and slammed it down ontop of Ninthius.

The snapping of bones and the mournful cries of panicked soldiers echoed throughout Ragefire Chasm. Their beloved Guild Master had fallen.

To Be Continued in Part Two…


	23. Killing Zar'teaus OLD SCHOOL p2

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Killing Zar'teaus OLD SCHOOL, Part II**

Without their Guild Master to lead them, the raiders of Midnight's Gap lost heart. The survivors fought long and hard through the night, but when morning came, Zar'teaus was still at 'five percent' as they say, and many more of them had died from lack of healers or exhaustion. At last, it seemed there was no hope for the Midnight's Gappers.

But then, Pasha the Orc huntress looked into the exceptionally blue Durotar sky and saw the faded gray smoke signals.

She and her 'date' were recovering from a rather shameful night, lying in lawn chairs on the tropical veranda of her parents' home in Sen'jin Village.

"Oh, crap." Pasha grumbled when she realized what the message meant. Now she actually had to get up, and explain to everyone why she was late for the raid…

"What's that, my terrifying, gnome-beating, war-maiden?" Her recent boyfriend Knifedance asked.

Much to her own mortifying chagrin, Pasha had learned that she liked to roleplay. In fact, she was starting to like it even more than plumbing dungeons with her raiding guild. Knifedance, a rogue with the Orcish spy network called the Shattered Hand had turned her on to it. Her parents weren't home at the moment, but she'd come home to tell them… okay, well mostly it was her bad mojo ankle that needed fixing by the local witchdoctor, but Pasha _told_ herself that she'd done the responsible thing, and returned home to come-out to her parents. She found it odd that they weren't there. But seeing the Midnight's Gap smoke signals brought it all together.

Both Pasha's adopted parents were really big into raiding. Well, watching their children raid. All their old family photos, black and white screenshots of their kids slaying monsters with forty other strangers, several Tier 2 epic helmets none of her Troll daughters or son wore anymore since the Burning Crusade started… and yes, in a glass case was Onyxia's black dragon sinew and the petrified leaf that Pasha had won years ago. She never managed to actually finish the quest. Pasha sighed as she looked around the bamboo walls of the family hut. Old black and white Midnight's Gap tabards in various sizes for Shamanatrix, Suweel the priestess, Cysandra the sometimes shadow-priestess, her twin Kysandra who was a shaman, twins Shonne the mage and Phniria yet another shaman, their cousin Knightsbaer the warrior and last but not least, Shia'jin… that damned gay Troll brother of hers who'd she'd have to drop kick as soon as she saw him. It would be the only way to save face after running off with Knifedance a day earlier. She'd done it in front of what Shia'jin claimed were their surprise long-lost Night Elf family members in the middle of the Barrens. Pasha rolled her eyes as she recalled it now. Her older brother thought he was off on one of his spiritual journeys again… he was such a dumbass. She growled.

"A big gay, boyfriend-stealing dumbass!"

"What was that, love?" Knifedance sitting in a deck chair beside her said.

Pasha cleared her throat and tried again, "My brother, the great healer Shia'jin…" she wasn't sure how to role-play the rest of it. She was still very new to all this, "is… a… umm… Big gay boyfriend-stealing dumbass!"

"Boyfriend, eh? Orc-woman, you are referring to that Tauren in your guild, named Flathoof aren't you? Not that… incredibly upsetting Blood Elf, right?"

"Huh? Oh, you mean Brokebutt the Third. Heh. No, Faltheriel isn't all that bad. Just threaten to shove your old double-barrelled shotgun up his pretentious butt when he flirts with you, and he calms down alright."

Next to them, Baby the Pig had awakened and started squealing for breakfast. Knifedance discreetly sneaked the monstrous-sized pig pet of Pasha's some dried bacon.

"Don't feed him that! It's cannibalism!" Pasha gasped.

"Baby likes it, and he likes me for it, do you see, fair wench?"

Just as Knifedance said, the ironically named pig loved the bacon and he loved Knifedance for giving him a forbidden treat, the likes of which he'd never eaten before. But how could such a thing be possible? And he thought his master Pasha was nice, feeding him everything… Baby plopped over and half-slobbered on the floor, half smiled up at the Orc rogue reverently.

"You know, Pasha, there is something I've been meaning to tell you, about your brother?"

"Not now. I'm late for a raid."

"But you see, Orc wench, that is the crux of our little problem. I've been investigating your brother for weeks now, and months before that, your Night Elf family members…"

"WHAT!"

Knowing Pasha pretty well by now, Knifedance flinched and his hands flew up protectively over his face.

"That can't be right… that cloud formation looks like… _Ragefire Chasm… 9PM? _Why in the hell would Guild Master Ninthius ask us to do that? I knew that he was going crazy, talking about that split warrior personality of his… Olim, I think it is? And all the time, too… but this is madness! No wonder, that's exactly where my parents went. They left to hang back and watch us kids raid, _again_!" She realized, and ran to grab her gun.

Pasha whistled for her swift brown riding wolf mount next, sized Baby up and decided he wasn't fit for raiding at the moment, and called down her pet wolf, Shedevil. Unlike Baby the Pig, Shedevil was as sharp as her long black nose and had a good head for fighting. The big furry Worg raced down the stairs dutifully, but stopped when she saw Knifedance. Instantly she started growling. Pasha's wolf mount growled at him from outside the house, where she tried, but couldn't fit through the door.

"Oh, calm down girls. That's just my handsome new boyfriend," Pasha began to play Shedevil and talk in a creepy Orc baby voice. "He's a bloodthirsty rogue, yesh he is, gonna kick anyone in the face who disagrees, yesh he is… who's a bad dog?"

"My fearsome huntress, I'm afraid that I can't allow you to go into Ragefire Chasm."

Pasha smirked. "Really, Knifedance, it was fun when we did that last night…" she winked at him coyly, "Really fun. But this is my guild we're talkin' about here. Midnight's Gap needs me and I have to go."

That was when Knifedance drew his daggers on her and the dog. "You are the most horrifying Orc woman I have ever come across, the phrase 'Blood and Thunder'… now I know why they say it. I adore you Pasha, I confess! But I can't allow you to interfere with my mission. This is too important to the Shattered Hand."

"What mission? I don't get you."

"The Shattered Hand has been watching Master Rogue Shadowstep and his accomplice Priestess Feathershine for nearly a hundred years. Those two are behind a lot of cover-ups that don't just affect the Alliance, but all of Azeroth. Especially considering… that ruined underwater temple in Azshara that proves Trolls are related to Night Elves. We certainly don't need that sort of rumor getting around, disgusting."

Pasha blinked at him. "Uh… okay, whatever, role-play, role-play right back at ya. Now, let's move out of the way of the hunter and her angry wolves, so that I can get to the raid that prolly started last night when I was um… busy with you, and hope I don't lose that much DKP." She moved to push Knifedance away from the door, but he turned quickly and grabbed her wrist.

That devlish smile turned threatening in an instant. "Those two important Night Elves are up to something again, but this time the Shattered Hand knows everything about it. I've been watching them since last year, when that traitorous warrior Onyxbane revealed that his sister Opalbane was a Twilight Cultist worshipping the Old raptor god Zar'teaus in Silithus. Her husband Alessandre is a notorious murderer in the Alliance as a rogue and a druid for about a thousand years before that, and the Blood Elf Faltheriel is worse… he was a Sunfury shadowpriest for Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider in Outland, and then a Scryer, and then he fled from Shatthrath City and became a member of the Burning Legion, a demon hunter! Now, you tell me what those criminals are all doing, conspiring together? It can't be good. I fixed their little raid, Midnight's Gap is going to wipe. In fact, they must have already. I'm sorry, but your guild is going to have to die along with those Night Elves… It was the only way that I could ensure the nefarious treachery ended beneath Orgrimmar, where your guild agreed to help the Night Elves. Every last one of them will die with Honor, Pasha, for the Horde."

Shedevil never stopped growling. Pasha gently cursed under her breath. She should have known better than to ever doubt that dog's instincts. All of her wolves were very smart. Baby could be heard out on the veranda, snoring.

"You're telling me that because my brother got a little upset after his break up with Flathoof, and got ringed into helping those—okay, I'll admit it—creepy good for nothin' Night Elves, and then, out of the kindness of his heart, got our raiding guild to help them… that they deserve to die? That ain't right, Knifedance, and you know it. And now my foster parents could be in trouble too! Let me pass!"

"No. I made a decision yesterday when I first met you, to save you from their plight. I love you Pasha, you are the best roleplaying Orc woman I have ever met. I could never—"

"I never _did_ explain to you why I named this gun Buttbreaker Junior, did I?" she spoke over him.

"… Excuse me," he put a kindly hand on her shoulder. "But I was in the middle of a very important monologue. As a courtesy, you have to wait until I finish."

"I'll finish you, you lying, scheming son of an ogre!" Pasha raised her gun overhead. Back inside the house, Baby the pig squealed in horror at the sight. Shedevil crouched on the floor and covered her eyes with her big black paws, whimpering pitifully.

Pasha stood over her agonizing ex-boyfriend, making a show of wiping her hands of the deed, and of him.

"Now, in case that wasn't clear enough, once you get that thing out of your ass, No, you CANNOT call on me again, and No, you CANNOT ever speak to me or pretend like you know me ever again. NO ONE messes with my family, even if it _is _an annoying Troll foster family." Then she did a quick role-played Orc woman bow and said, "Farewell."

One core raider, fresh after a night of… well, it wasn't exactly rest, but Pasha was pretty much more clear-headed to raid now than she ever had been in the last few months after Flathoof robbed the guild bank and played she and her gay brother… One core raider rode through the red canyons of Durotar on a snarling brown wolf, trailed by an angry Worg, and Shedevil followed up by a Worg puppy named Farfel she and her master, okay so mostly her silly master had adopted. Not every hunter went as far as having a pet for their pets. Which of course meant, if Pasha ever reached her guild in time, Midnight's Gap would most likely be more screwed than they were to begin with.

_Around the same time, in Ragefire Chasm…_

In the shadows an old Troll and his red-headed wife put down their lawn chairs, jug of chilled Troll-rum and picnic basket when they walked into a horrific scene.

Guild Master Ninthius lay dead, glowing epic staff in hand.

"No… Mika'jah! It's like I alwaaays be tellin' dat Undead mon. He dinna' put my son in da raid, did he? Like I tol' and tol' him every time we come!" he wept. "My po' Shia'jin. He be good healer, coulda' prevented all this."

His wife Mika'jah was a spitting image of all their many female Troll children, and the one cousin Knightsbaer. She put down the picnic umbrella and rubbed her husband's back in comforting circles. "Now now, Pa… Shia'jin be here. You don' see him fightin' ova dere?" she pointed across the room. Among the rows and rows of dead Horde raiders, was a small group of Midnight's Gappers. Staves, knives and swords were gripped tightly in many pairs of frantic hands, as the female Troll warrior Knightsbaer struggled to tank the old raptor god Zar'teaus.

Grombah, Shia'jin's father clutched his wife's blue hand. "Dat can't be! It really is… Dat's Zar'teaus! Midnight's Gap was killin' Zar'teaus! Oh no… and dey losin."

"What do you say, husband, should we show them how raiding used to be done, in da' good old days, when we Darkspea used to go down to Zul'Gurub?"

"No! Ya kiddin' me? Wife, we stay here in da dark, and maybe one of us can resurrect dem after. Das' foolish what dey be doin'. Our family be runnin' from dat old god jerk for thousands of years, why Shia'jin tink dat his raiding guild can kill him I don't know." Grombah was a priest, and Mika'jah was a shaman. Neither of whom were dumb enough to intervene at this point. They stretched out their lawn chairs, passed out the Echo Isles-style tiger roti and watched.

"It's cause he's a stupid failure of a son! Not like his sister Pasha!" Shia'jin's mother called across the cavernous room. "Adoptin' dat she-Orc to get in good with the Horde be the best ting dis family ever done." How quickly their admiration for their second youngest faded, when Shia'jin was doing poorly.

The few of his sisters who were still alive, stopped what they were doing briefly to wave happily at their parents who'd finally arrived, and went back to raiding. Shia'jin grumbled something about 'annoying older sister suck-ups' and then continued healing Knightsbaer. Combined with Zar'teaus' wrath and the guild's wrath for Faltheriel, the Blood Elf Burning Legion ranger had died in a dogpile of angry Horde, Opalbane who wasn't specced for healing, as Guatanamo insisted, couldn't save herself and died. Onyxbane hadn't made it either, since he wasn't even prot specced, the way Ammy _told_ him to be. Priestess Feathershine healed herself and Alessandre, who was both a druid and a rogue, through most of the damage. Master Rogue Shadowstep had vanished long ago, but the stealthing noises everyone kept hearing around Priestess Feathershine surely meant that he hadn't gone very far.

As for the other surviving raiders… An Undead rogue named Migore kept slashing away at Zar'teaus with a sick smile on his face that intimated the bloodthirsty man was deep in his 'peeveepee zone' as they say, and didn't realize that they were all about to die. Skeedles, a giddy Undead warlock also smiled as she, out of mana, wanded away at the Old God. But she was always that cheerful. A stalwart shaman named Bratticus kept conjuring frostbolt after frostbolt, in a desperate attempt to finish Zar'teaus off. Shia'jin, who also wished he could be an elemental shaman, kept giving her dirty looks for not healing like everyone else who could was doing. Adultrage, a paladin, looked to be excited about this new encounter, and no doubt, was committing a great deal of the battle to memory. He was a young one, but also excited to learn whatever he could about his soldier-class and his raiding guild. Badvoodoo, another Troll, had given up casting spells and sat against the wall behind them, hugging her knees. She'd already gone to her happy place and was mumbling about all the pretty horses she was going to own in the afterlife. A mage, Moanface, kept poking Shonne in the ribs, saying,

"Hey, remember that time me and Consistent got into the arena against you and Wormey, and we kept beating you?"

Shonne whined in his high-pitched voice, "That's not what happened! We beat _you._"

"No man," he said, though Shonne was clearly a girl and a pretty Troll at that. "We fought you twice, fate threw us together twice… and we won. That's how I want to remember it. "Hey, Shonne. Remember that time me and Consistent…" over and over again.

And there were more Midnight's Gap guild members who groaned in pain all over the room, as they took their final breaths.

Faargoth kept going on and on about Lord of the Rings and Star Wars porn. "Screw, you, I will." He said, in startingly good impression of Yoda.

Steer looked off into space, talking about a white light at the end of the Mana Tombs. "If only they weren't heroic. We wouldn't have wiped… I'm a good tank, I know it… Mommy…."

A young Tauren named Mobius swore that he was going to come back as a Troll in the next life and get revenge on his guild for… he couldn't come up with a good reason why he hated everyone so much, actually. Well, he muttered something about a 'special secret chest' in the Molten Core, but it really couldn't have been that, could it? Every raiding guild pulled that prank on newcomers in the old days. Or, maybe it was just Midnight's Gap who did it and _that_ was why he was so mad. Ohhhhhhhh…

Tokyodon reached out and took the hand of his beloved boyfriend. "Not you too… well, at least I will die knowing that you weren't as fucked up in the head as that creepy Faltheriel. Good bye, my love."

In that moment, only one group of soldiers seemed to find the courage, to resist indulging in the dramatic death scenes every raider felt entitled to.

Staci stopped feigning death for a moment, and reached out to touch his pet wolf Tanuki's paw. "Boy… you know what to do." Then, he pretended to die again. Several other hunters lay nearby, obviously not dead though they pretended to be, because there was a zoo of hunter's pets standing right beside them, alive and well. Tanuki sized up Stabbaterra's crockolisk named Sarcuchukchuk, Stickybear's black armored pig named Samwich, and Harem's purple ravager Stinky.

White subtitles appeared at the bottom of the screen while Tanuki spoke in a series of yips and barks.

_We've been preparing for this for a long time… my master Staci has always called us the Zoo, encouraged us not to hang back. Staci wanted us to get in the raid._

_I'm twenty percent of my master's damage! Twenty percent of my master's damage! _Samwich the pig grunted over and over again, in a mindless loop.

The grey wolf Tanuki snapped at him for interrupting. _This is our time to shine, to show the entire guild that pets are good for raiding, that Beast Mastery is a worthy spec…_

_Captain Tanuki, Sir…_ Sarcuchuckchuck hissed in his reptilian voice. _After the Burning Crusade started, Beast Mastery has actually become a viable raiding spec… The rights we were passionately fighting for were just, well, given to us. At least, that's what Hinma the Oracle told my master Stabbaterra._

_SILENCE! You all answer to me, as the alpha hunter pet! I'm telling you, I didn't brainwash all my master's other pets to think of themselves as Tanuki, for nothing. With the magic I've discovered--this magic that I have named after myself, Tanuki-- we have become the dominant raiding pets of all ones our masters keep in the stables. Join me! _Then Tanuki sat back and howled low and long. A big red carrion bird and a black spotted scorpid were summoned. Both introduced themselves as Tanunki.

The other hunters' pets oohed and ahhed over the raiding wolf's superior powers.

_Now, do you all have your pets, my fellow Tanukis?_

One by one, each pet came forward and Tanuki touched his long nose to their snouts or beaks. Together, they concentrated until their masters' two other pets were summoned. At last, the useless swath of hunter pets who couldn't even feign death along with their masters, had multiplied their numbers by many times. This time, they really did look like 'The Zoo.'

_Wait, where's Shedevil? I was hoping to use Baby's boar charge to help with tanking, and then Reina has that cat DPS…_ Tanuki the wolf sighed. _Oh well, she's late again. That's minus one-hundred and fifty DKP! You all learn a lesson from Pasha and her late pets this day. Now, Tanukis…_ he rallied men, his animal-men, and they all chanted in turn that they were Tanuki too, that all hunter pets were Tanukis even though they didn't know it yet, but one day, one day they would rise up and everyone would be made to respect the strength of a hunter's pet. The animals formed ranks and charged over to Zar'teaus.

Just when Knightsbaer looked ready to drop from exhaustion, twelve angry critters came up and started goring the monster.

Zar'teaus turned from the last of Midnight Gap's raiders, in a howling rage. He tried to target Tanuki many times, but you see the problem was… they _all_ were Tanuki.

_Tanuki is the Alpha, Tanuki is the Omega, now in Patch 2.1.3 and even before, during Beta…_ the animals chanted over and over again.

The screech of a carrion bird lowered the power Zarteaus' attacks. The wolves howled low, and increased everyone's strength. The pigs charged and interrupted Zar'teaus' poisonous miasma spell countless times. The pets had a strategy and it was working.

_Steady now… he's at five percent, _Tanuki the wolf told them.

Stinky the ravager snarled and panicked. _But, Captain, he was at five percent when we started!_

_I am only twenty percent of my master's total dps, twenty percent of my master's dps…_Samwhich the boar kept saying over and over again.

_Oh yeah… that. _Tanuki the wolf realized at last. Then, he glanced over both shoulders at his comrades and feigned death.

Back at the other end of the cavern, Shia'jin's parents poured another round of Troll rum into their coconut shell cups and winced at the black spell that at last got the hunter's pets.

"It'd be sad mon, if it didn't smell like barbeque." Grombah mourned. "Which reminds me… Ma, we got any more of dat tiger roti?"

Knightsaber had used the brief break in the fight to bandage himself, and his healers sat down and drank to restore their mana, which helped when Zar'teaus focused on them again. It obviously wasn't going to be enough though. They prayed for a miracle.

Why is it that miracles can only really occur at the eleventh hour?

The fingers of a certain Undead mage began to twitch. The horrible death-grip of the mage tank eased itself open. Muttering that Ninthius was no more, Guild Master Olim got up from where he lay, now covered from head to toe with black plate. He hefted up a shield and crouched low. In his other hand, a jagged sword that sparked with green power raised in challenge. The transformation of Ninthius was amazing… really, he'd only run back to his body as a ghost and switched into the warrior gear he'd been carrying all along, and just started calling himself Olim, but it was still very, super-cool.

"Old God Zar'teaus, raptor fiend, and carrier of the Wrath! Come here, you noob!" Olim taunted. Zar'teaus, now at only two percent, not because of the valiant sacrifice of the pets, but on account of the casters having full man and being able to cast some curses on the Old God before diverting all their focus to healing. Making a final Stand, Zar'teaus gave a final hollow roar dragged himself over to Guild Master Olim.

Zar'teaus threw his weight about, sensing that the throes of death were near at last. His final cries were mournful. Olim stayed clear of the red raptor's lashing tail. The rest of his guild stayed far behind the monster, amazed at the tanking advanced technique Olim was already employing: keeping the monster turned _away _from everyone else. His commensurate knowledge of tanking strategy was to be commended! Perhaps a mage couldn't pull it off, but a warrior could. An Undead warrior who had become one with his former life at last, he could do anything…

"Sorry I'm late, woah! One aimed shot coming up!"

Olim turned to the crazy Orc huntress. "No Pasha, you fool! This was supposed to be _my_ moment!"

Then Staci yelled, "Pasha! How many times have I told you to use a proper shot rotation? Multi-shot first, _then_—"

Olim screamed at Staci that this was not the time. When the Guild Master and his Executive Officer were done bickering, Pasha came over and tapped them on the shoulders.

"Sorry I'm so late. Can you not dock my DKP, since I got the killing blow?"

People all around the room who were supposed to be dead by now, swore and complained that hunters didn't deserve to get killing bows, especially someone like Pasha who _still_ used a Dwarven Hand Cannon.

"It's called Buttbreaker the Third. And uh… that's why I was late, Staci. Cause I had to buy a new gun on the Auction House."

Staci walked over and inspected the bright red corpse of Zar'teaus. No one had seen him die, except for Pasha and her wolf Shedevil. And knowing Pasha, the least focused of all his hunters, Staci wanted to see it for himself. After a swift kick in a place that any creature, male or female, Old god or new, would wince from, Staci triumphantly announced,

"Zar'teaus is down!" she tapped the Vent parasite on her neck. _Zar'teaus is down, guys. Good job, only one attempt!_

Guild Master Olim said next, _And I became a tank overnight… Hello? Doesn't anyone care?_

_Oh. Grats Ninthy._ Someone said.

_It's Olim! Geez, I went and had a class change and everything, rerolled right in the middle of a raid, leveled to seventy while a ghost… Sometimes I hate this damned guild…_

People wept and cheered for joy when they were resurrected. The Night Elves ran and hugged each other. Then, unable to resist, went and hugged other people. The Horde were charmed by them, thanked them in their many languages for bringing Zar'teaus over for such a 'fun fight.' Only Horde raiders would go as far as calling such a bloodbath a fun fight.

In the background, Staci, Olim, Ammy, Desdemona, Oxy, Smackwrath, Acer, and Groljimmy worried that Zar'teaus didn't drop any 'epic loot.'

Olim lowered his voice. "Look, one of you guys just skin this thing and we'll be fine. No body, no evidence of a raid, no one complaining that they didn't get their helm or shoulders upgrade, or whatever. Deal?"

"Olim, we can all see the epic mage staff with a red raptor's head on it that you just ninja'ed from the body. We're not stupid." Acer crossed his arms.

After an uncomfortable silence, Olim said, "I'm still going to keep Ninthy around. He's going to be a twink, duh!" Then, "Screenshots, or it didn't happen!"

The relief that came over Shia'jin's family was tremendous. For thousands of years, since the beginning of time, had they been fleeing the Wrath of Zar'teaus. Now the Old God was dead and they could finally be free of his dark manipulation. For the first time in a long time, Shia'jin smiled. In fact, he smiled at his long lost sister, Opalbane, the person on the Night Elf side of the family who carried the curse of Zar'teaus. She understood him. Nearly both their lives had been ruined because the hate of Zar'teaus was placed in their hearts at birth, their souls marked. One ran away from home, became a shadowpriestess and a cultist in Silithus over it. It took an especially deadly man, a reformed murderer to finally save Opalbane from her dark fate at last. Shia'jin, the other bearer of the Wrath, had been terrified of his sexuality for his entire life, and was forced to become a shaman healer to stifle other self-destructive tendencies besides that self-denial that eventually felt like his own personal hell. And then, he had hurt his sister. Sure Pasha was adopted, and he always teased her for it, but Shia'jin never meant to actually treat Pasha like she wasn't a part of the family.

Now, Pasha timidly came forth, and Shia'jin snatched her up in a firm hug. "I love ya, sis. I so sorry about everything, girly!"

Pasha bit her lip against the tears and said, "You aren't so scrawny afterall, are ya? Oh, I'm sorry too, for ever trying to shoot you. And um… you might want to grab a paladin and get that fresh Hunter's Mark removed from over your head."

Shia'jin looked up at it and laughed.

Opalbane took her little brother Onyxbane aside too.

"This is a great day for us." She hugged him.

"By Elune! I just can't believe it's all finally over… It seemed impossible, and then we met Faltheriel, and Shia'jin, and Pasha… I distrusted her the most, but she turned out to be the one to finally took him down. I really don't think I can hate hunters any more, not after this."

Opalbane patted her brother on the shoulder. "Yes, and your son is free of the Wrath now too. I feel like… like a revelation has come over me. True joy was always there in my heart, but it was like I'd forgotten it. I tried to recall it, many times, to reach out and touch it, but I just couldn't… reach it. Now I can. For the first time in my life, when I smile, I truly smile. I don't just go through the motions while I wonder if the happiness I think I feel looks real enough. I'm sure your son is just as relieved right now."

Onyxbane smiled, and went to go hug their foster mother, Priestess Feathershine. His sister stopped him short, her tone serious again.

"Onyx… there is one last thing I need to tell you. I hope that you don't me for it." She swallowed hard, gathering the courage. "Twenty years ago, I made you do something terrible when you were hardly a boy, though I knew that I shouldn't. Out of anger, out of a desire to avenge our parents slain in Felwood by that vile Zar'teaus! I made you change your name. I made both of us change our names so that we would never forget what happened to our parents." Opalbane looked up at the dark cavernous ceiling. "Mom, today, Sissimarillion and I have avenged you. You can rest your fair head in peace. And dad… I will always remember your dark smile, how your rich skin would blush all over when I showed you a picture I drew, or made you laugh. I hope you and mother are laughing together now, in the afterlife. You did everything you could to protect us, to help us come up normally, even shielding the truth about the Wrath from us, but as fate would have it—"

"Wait a second. You just said… my real name is Sissimarillion. Is that really what it was? Before you made me change it, and I couldn't remember it at all, not anything at all, except for that it began with an 'S'. But that was my name?"

Opalbane nodded.

"People would call me Sissy for short! That's a horrible name for a boy! A warrior can't have a name like that!" Onyxbane freaked out.

"You know… you can keep the name I gave you, if you want. I was going to keep mine anyway. It sort of grew on me."

Onyxbane breathed a sigh of relief. "Say, what's _your_ real name Sissy?" he covered his mouth when he realized that his long-time nickname for his sister had actually been his own.

"I think you know what that is too." Opalbane smiled. "Think of your favorite person in the whole wide world… what do you call her? And wasn't it your favorite name for a woman, before even then?"

Onyxbane thought he was going to cry. "Sarah? Your real name is Sarah?"

Opalbane wiped a tear from her eye, her voice now heavy with emotion. "You see… neither of us really forgot. We never lost ourselves, back in Felwood when the Burning Legion came and destroyed our world during the Second War. We are true survivors. We found a way to keep all the good memories about mom and dad, and we helped each other to never forget ourselves. And now, with Zar'teaus gone,"

"…We can focus entirely on those good times, for once, and finally heal past the tragedy."

Onyxbane reached over and embraced his sister. "I'm so grateful for you, Sissy. I'm so glad you made sure that I would never forget, about mom and dad."

Alessandre, back in his black leather armor, joined them. "Speaking of mothers and fathers…" he nudged his wife. "I think now is a good time to tell him, if any. Not that I want to steal the spotlight from you and your family, after finally slaying a thousands of years old raptor god who tortured every generation of either Elves or Trolls with a curse."

Onyxbane let go his sister and let Alessandre, her husband, hold her, as he sensed his brother-in-law wanted to. "What's all this? About mothers and fathers? What news could possibly be better than…"

"Oh, come on, meathead! I give you more credit than that."

Onyxbane took his sister's hands. "You're… pregnant! When did this happen?"

"With everything going on," she explained, "Al and I wanted to wait until after this conflict with Zar'teaus was resolved. We've been trying since Willypearl's wedding. After seeing her tie the knot, in addition to you and Wisthera getting so close… we finally gave in. It just felt right."

Onyxbane clapped Alessandre on the back. "No wonder you two were so… come here, you! This is wonderful news, congratulations!"

"I wonder if it will be a boy or a girl? Or if he'll come up a priest or a rogue?"

"As long as he's not a dirty druid—" Al started to say. He hated druids. It was all due to the fact that he was still one, against his will. You're going to have to read the other story if you want any more explanation than that. Opalbane nudged her husband.

"Al, all that matters is that this child will not be born with the Wrath. No one in our family ever will be again." She hugged her husband and brother at once.

Not too far away, Faltheriel had been resurrected and he stood enclosed in Shia'jin's arms. The strange Blood Elf was crying onto his boyfriend's shoulder. Pasha stood nearby.

"Oh, calm down, Brokebutt the Third. Everything went off without a hitch. Well… I didn't see any hitches, since I came late. It couldn't have been that bad, though right?"

Shia'jin grumbled as he comforted his boyfriend, "He hit on nearly everybody in the guild mon, and den dey get so mad, they throw the raid, and dogpile on him, beat da living daylights out of him all at once."

Faltheriel whimpered, "I just wanted to be loved."

Shia'jin rolled his eyes. "You gotta' big ego, for sure, mon! I'm not enough for you? All those dirty looks people give you in da street, men _and_ women alike, not be enough for you? You lucky you didn't get drop-kicked, when you hit on Guild Master Ninthius like that. Normally, he don't take foolishness."

Pasha put in, "Well, he's Olim now. Not that any of us didn't see _that_ coming." Then, she winced. "Ugh… here come Ma and Pa… you ready to tell them what's goin' on?"

Shia'jin stood tall, Faltheriel somewhat like a damsel in his arms. A really creepy, Burning Legion fel-armor wearing damsel. "I be born ready. My years of secrecy be endin' right now!"

Mika'jah and Grombah strolled up in their from-the-island old Troll way. Their many daughters, and the one female cousin, if that weren't enough, flanked them on either side. Really, his family could have started its own raiding guild. Why did all of them feel the need to keep joining in Midnight's Gap?

"Ma, Pa! I be standin' dis way, wit a handsome male elf in my arms, cause I was meant to. I be wantin' to do dis my whole life, and especially with someone as good lookin' as dis one." As he spoke, Faltheriel calmed. At last, he looked up and smiled. "I hit de jackpot a while back when I met Faltheriel. Now, when dis is over, I am going to take him to Club Thrall on Friday, the boys-only night, and we gonna' dance, get drunk off our asses and maybe I'll bend over and get lucky in the men's room—"

Grombah grimaced and clapped angrily in his son's face to make him stop. "You a idyit, Shia'jin, if I ever saw one! We all know you be gay already! You canna' raise a boy as gay as you and not know? You tink all the male elf porn stuffed into your mattress not be a big tipoff?"

His mother added, "Or da fact dat you even go to Club Thrall on Fridays? You been sneaking out dere since you was thirteen, you wacky boy. Of course we know." She pointed a finger at Pasha next. "You, on da otha' hand, we really worried about."

"What! I didn't do anything…" _Yet._ Those words were on the tip of Pasha's tongue.

"Why _you_ be goin' ta Club Thrall's on Friday nights? Hmm?"

"Huh? Ma, it's an all guys' night. I want to meet single men, so of course I'm going to go. Heh. That's where I met Flathoof."

Shia'jin and everyone else in their family smacked their foreheads at once, and started shouting at her, in various forms of Troll-accented Orcish, that Friday nights were for the gay couples, and of course Flathoof was gay in the first place, and how did she even sneak in there anyway, being a woman and all?

Pasha grunted, "I'm a woman Orc. Lots of people mistake me for a guy, like all the time."

"I'll believe it." Shia'jin mumbled under his breath. Pasha raised her gun above her head in warning, and Faltheriel laughed at their little brother-sister tiff.

Grombah, the patriarch of the family came forward and shook Faltheriel's hand. The Elf's other arm was still firmly wrapped around his son. "I be da first one to say, tank you for takin' my son off our hands. He a good boy, das' true, but he wasn't happy. He need someone like you, I think." Grombah scratched his white hair.

"And a fiiiine ting he is too," Mika'jah joked, and flicked her wrist while she began a high-pitched Trollish cackle. All of Shia'jin's sisters started saying at once that they were jealous of Shia'jin and asked if Faltheriel had any brothers.

Falthriel loved this. "Sadly, I'm an only child. There is only one of me in this entire world, or in Outland beyond, where I work."

"Say, what you do for a livin' mon?" Shia'jin's father asked. "Ma and I came late, so we missed dat part, I tink."

Shia'jin started saying very loudly that it wasn't important, and wasn't it time for he and Faltheriel to leave and get dressed for the club soon? Though, it wasn't Friday.

The conversation would have ended nicely there, but, heartened by her brother's example, Pasha felt she had her own little confession to make.

"Ma, Pa… there is something I gotta' tell you too. I'm… I'm a roleplayer."

Silence.

"I tried to raid, really I did. But I didn't like it at all. All the running around farming consumables, or doing that stupid epic bow quest. It just wasn't me. Though, on the plus side, I _did_ learn a lot about hunting properly, you know the shot rotation thing, and about aggro? Staci is really smart, and I'm glad for the little lessons she gave me and all the other hunters. Maybe I'll just go to Outland with Shia'jin and start over there. I hear the green weapons and armor the mobs drop are just as good as epics here on Azeroth, if not better!" she smiled as she realized it. "Maybe… just maybe I will never have to raid again! Green is the new purple, you know."

"Dontcha' ever, EVAR say sometin' like dat again, you hear me?" her mother suddenly shouted.

Pasha flinched.

"Dem's lies! We raised you to be a top raider, and a top raider you gonna' be girly! We not tolerate any nasty role-players in dis family, with dere arpeee, and dere emotes and backslash e… den dey life story. Dey crazy with dere fake weddings, and da balls dey trow wit' the Alliance in Booty Bay. Dey won't even lift a finga' to kill a world boss, or raid a dungeon, less dey can find a reason, according to 'da lore' to do it. No sir! No way, no how, is my daughter goin' be a Arpeer… You cyber, Pasha? Is dat it? Cause if you do, we cart you off to rehab center right now, get you off the junk."

"What? No! I don't do that. Besides," she lowered her eyes. "For some people, erotic roleplay is a more than acceptable way for consenting adults to—"

"YOU OUTTA' DA FAMILY!"

Pasha started screaming. "I hate you! I hate all of you! How come Shia'jin gets to be the hero? I was only an Orc for you, I got your stubby two-toed feet in the door, in all the doors in Orc society. But you used me didn't you? HAT! HAT YOU ALL!"

"Pasha…?" Wormarkaya the female Orc warlock had been walking by. On hearing Pasha speak just now, she came up and tapped Pasha on the shoulder. "You aren't Pasha are you? But I remember you," Wormey started to cry. "Don't you remember me? We used to sit in the orphanage and make up all those crazy words together. Geez, it's been in front of my face this entire time, but not until you said that, did it occur to me. Sis, it's me, Doni? Don't you remember?"

Bonita, the often silent Orc warlock and Aglompin, Wormarkaya's boyfriend stood beside her.

"… Sis? Oh my goodness!"

"Pooks! You do remember me! Yay!" they hugged.

Shia'jin and his family looked on, looking disturbed.

"I went back to the orphanage so many times looking for you. All they ever told me was, 'Your little sister got adopted, I'm sorry. We can't tell you who the parents are, because of our policy, blah blah blah, your parents died in the war and you should feel honored, blah blah blah, For the Horde!' But it's you, it's really you, Pooks." She hugged her again.

Shia'jin raised an eyebrow. "So das' it? All we been through togetha' and you jus' gonna leave dis family? You know, Pasha, or Pooks… whatever you real name is, it's not blood dat makes a family." Shia'jin briefly glanced over at the Night Elves who were hugging and saying their goodbyes as they hearthstoned out of the dungeon. "We all love each other, and dat's how we stick together. Mebbe Ma and Pa love hard, sometimes _too_ hard, hard enough to give ya a complex about raidin' or bein' gay your entire life… but we still family."

Pasha smiled. "Thanks for finally saying that, brother. It means a lot."

The reunited Trolls and Orcs exchanged a combination of warrior salutes and hugs. Grombah said, "I still don't like da idea of you runnin' off ta Outland for no reason at all. And ta roleplay of all tings!"

"Dad, don't worry, I'll be fine. I'll come home with epic armor and weapons, or the equivalent, I swear."

"It's just dat we don't want any less for our little girl. You deserve da very best Pasha. You a good hunter, you should always try to go as far as you can in life."

"Hey, I'm going to stop raiding too!" Wormy brightened. "Aglompin and I like player versus player battles more than anything else, and we told Ninthy… err… Olim that we're going to focus on that from now on. At first, Olim didn't like hearing it, but you know what I said to him? 'I'm not afraid of no bald Undead guy and his cow cronies!"

Pasha winced at that. "Cow… cronies…?"

"Nevermind that. Let's all travel to Outland together! It'll be awesomesauce!"

Faltheriel eyed Wormarkaya up and down. "Another pretty Orc along? Well that will be just—"

Suddenly, Faltheriel pitched forward, a large purple glowing knife in his back. Shia'jin's family screamed and cried at what Aglompin the Undead rogue had just done. It happened so fast, no one had even seen him stealth and sneak up on the Blood Elf.

"Sorry, but no one talks to my girl like that. If we're going to be traveling together, it's better that he learns this right now."

After a few dazed moments, Faltheriel just got back up, pulled the knife out of his back and handed it to Aglompin. "Hmm… do I detect adamantite? You make that yourself? Does that mean I get to call you… a _weapons master_?"

Shia'jin grabbed his flirtatious boyfriend by the arm and waved a hasty goodbye to his family before they could ask too many questions about how Faltheriel resurrected himself. They stopped to say good bye to the Night Elves next, but all of them, except for Feathershine and Shadowstep were gone. Faltheriel seemed very upset to hear that Opalbane, Onyxbane, and especially Alessandre, had cut out early before he could chat with them. A jealous Shia'jin grunted that Faltheriel shouldn't really be surprised and yanked him off with the others of their party who were leaving.

Finally, all the Midnight's Gap raiders were departing. Shadowstep and Priestess Feathershine followed them out of Ragefire Chasm, caught up in the wonderful moment. They smiled and held hands.

"Oh Jebidiath! We did it! We saved everyone, together! Isn't this wonderful?"

"Yes, Deliah, I—" suddenly Shadowstep stealthed.

"Jebidiath? Is something wrong?"

He whispered, "We walked right out of that dungeon into the heart of Orgrimar, that's what. Why did I follow you? As if you knew where you were going?"

Priestess Feathershine startled at the Orc warlocks and rogues of the Shattered Hand who had noticed the Night Elf Priestess. Shadowstep was right, they simply walked right out of the dungeon, following the raiders, and back into the Cleft of Shadow. They angry Horde closed in…

_Let's get back inside Ragefire Chasm! _Priestess Feathershine told Shadowstep with a Mind Vision spell. Shia'jin and his raiding guild were long gone.

"No, Deliah. That will be like walking right in on a crime scene. In the worst case scenario, they'll think that we were behind all of this, or at least take advantage of the opportunity and blame us, the Alliance for it. I doubt the Orcs will take too kindly to two Night Elves summoning a dangerous Old God underneath their city. In the best case scenario, we'll elude them for a time, but without Faltheriel's cloaking lotion, they _will_ find us. Nor do I think we should use our hearthstones at the moment. I didn't want to worry your family, but I still have this gut feeling think something's amiss in Darnassu. My Master Rogue instinct I s telling me that it has everything to do with me, too. In either scenario, we have to get out of Orgrimmar, and there's only one way to do it, I'm afraid."

Priestess Feathershine raised her hands above her head, ready to surrender.

"Strip." Her boyfriend Shadowstep told her. "Pull an Opalbane, Deliah. A crazy, running, naked Night Elf woman isn't a threat. Lots of people will hang back and even cheer you on. Go ahead."

"I will not!" but at the last minute, Feathershine resorted to slipping off her blue mooncloth robe. "And what are you going to do," she heated, "while I shame myself and all Priestesses of Elune on this day?"

Shadowstep grinned. "Oh, I'm just going to watch baby. That, and sap anyone who gets too close to you," he said while stealthed. "Now get moving!"

Cue old school Batman transitional music! … Dadadadadadadadaaa

High up above the Orgrimmar General Store, Orc Master Rogue Redhand stood next to his protégé. The red-haired Troll got up all of a sudden, loaded and cocked his crossbow.

"I see 'em, Master Rogue! I got a good shot at da Priestess."

Redhand leaned out of their concealed position in the skyscraper above all the other buildings in the Valley of Honor and swore. "Just the Priestess? Damn that Knifedance! He was supposed to get _all_ the Night Elves in one place, so we could finish them off. When he sent a runner, saying that he was 'indisposed,'" by Master Rogue Redhand's tone, it was obvious that Knifedance's boss didn't believe one word of the excuse, "I assumed that the fel crystals he hid all over Ragefire Chasm might fail without him to activate them. Taking every last one of those raiders out, that would have been far easier than trying to convict an entire raiding guild, a small army for a crime. As it is right now, we've got no evidence. _My_ spies are already telling me that whomever got to agent Knifedance in the end scared him so bad he went and burned hundreds of years' worth of evidence against the Night Elves. Damn him! Damn those elves!"

"Boss! Dis our last chance. You want me to pick her off, or not?"

Master Rogue Redhand scratched his chin. "No, not yet. Come on, let's climb up higher, to the towers. I bet that cocky Shadowstep will decloak as soon as he's free from the city. That was clever what he made his girlfriend do, strip like that." Then, both men were stuck for a moment, watching the beautiful Priestess Feathershine run for her life past the shocked Orgrimmar Grunts.

A few moments later, up on the ramparts above Orgrimmar, Redhand directed his assassin to aim the crossbow again. "Looks like he's holding out on us. Better take her down. Master Rogue Shadowstep won't go far if she's hurt."

The Troll rogue readied, aimed…

Then out of nowhere, an entire army of Night Elf Sentinels decloaked right on the road to Orgrimmar. Shadowstep and Feathershine almost crashed right into them.

"Dammit! I can't make my shot now!" the marksman complained. Master Rogue Redhand put a hand on his agent's shoulder.

"No, you're right, but not because they're tricky targets right now… It's Shadowstep, he won this day. Hundreds of years of investigation by my men and you bested us all. Besides your shooting any of them right now having international incident all over it… just let them go." Redhand began to think aloud, "I don't know how you did it old boy, but you finally outsmarted the Shattered Hand. You _are_ a master manipulator, like all the Master Rogues of the Horde and the Alliance alike have been saying." Then, he applauded the Night Elf man who was not there. "Well played, Master Rogue Shadowstep. Well played."

Cue another round of batman transitional music!

"Ack! Sentinels!" Back on the ground, Priestess Feathershine startled so much that she almost ran in the other direction, directly back to Orgrimmar. Shadowstep decloaked then and snagged an arm around her naked waist.

"Jebidiath Shadowstep! You are hereby under arrest, by order of High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind."

"Dammit!" Shadowstep made a vengeful fist. "I _knew_ something was wrong in Darnassus. May I at least know the charges?"

The Sentinel Captain looked down on them from underneath her silvery visor. "Conspiracy, kidnapping, murder, fraud… the list goes on and on. I hope I don't have to add 'traitor to the Alliance on that list.' We waited forever for you to come back out of the Orc city. What _were _you doing in there, anyway?"

"Look, if Tyrande wants to bring me back in shackles… then fine. As long as I can go home at last!"

"Jebidiath!"

The Sentinel eyed him. "And so you mean to say… you will come along peaceably?"

"Sure, why not."

The captain shouted over her shoulder. "Someone get the Priestess of Elune something to wear, and give them a mount!" Then, facing Shadowstep once again, she said, "I am glad, and today all of Darnassus also thanks you. Your country sorely needs you, ex-Master Rogue."

Shadowstep took in the eerie red landscape of Durotar around them. Things were beginning to look, and sound like a waking nightmare.

"EX- Master Rogue?" He growled. "What in the hell did that Myrielle do? I'll have her hanged for betraying me!" His voice echoed off the rocks, throughout the bright canyons. However, what angered Shadowstep more than being betrayed by his Second in Command was that his little journey was still far from over.

Author's Note:

WARNING: Hopefully, no actual people were hurt in the spoofing of this guild. At least forty guild members were spoofed. Limit one scene per member, though results may vary. Enjoyment of this spoof is free, except in New Zealand, Canada and on Terenas where there is a five cent charge for noobs. That previous insult is void where prohibited outside of the Midnight's Gap family.


	24. A Loving Farewell

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

**Episode Twenty-Four: A loving farewell**

Shadowstep, Feathershine and the Sentinels took several days to ride their mounts through the Barrens, and then up into Ashenvale. Captain Treelance did her best to try and explain the situation to the once Master Rogue. After a few days of this, it became clear that Shadowstep was more angry than he was confused.

Captain Treelance eyed Shadowstep under her silver visor. "...And so High Priestess Tyrande's suspicions are confirmed. The Second Commander did not inform you of the take over. What Mistress Rogue Myrielle has done is illegal." she concluded for him on the last day of their journey home.

Priestess Feathershine leaned back in the saddle of the Nightsaber the Sentinels had given her. For a while there, she was swaddled only in a Sentinel's cape. Once they reached Ashenvale though, they found her another priestess' robe. "Oh Jebidiath, I'm so sorry. All your hard work and your careful plans..."

Shadowstep very slowly looked up at Feathershine. "You aren't... rubbing this in my face? Telling me that it was bound to happen, the way I've been acting?"

"Jebidiath! No, this is a tragedy, if anything! We need to find a way to set things right."

"Indeed." Captain Treelance took a hand off the glaive at her belt to brush dark blue hair from her face. "And because of the dire situation Mistress Rogue Myrielle has put Darnassus in, I would like to, with your permission, order my Sentinels to forget that we found you fleeing from Orgrimmar. That little political entanglement will simply make it harder to do our jobs when we return."

Feathershine and Shadowstep breathed a sigh of relief. "That would do very nicely, thank you." he answered for both of them.

There was a silence that the three of them, flanked by twenty watchful Sentinels, feared to break.

"What... _were_ you doing in Orgrimmar of all places, anyway? Weren't you two supposed to be on an extended honeymoon?"

"Oh, no, Feathershine and I aren't married..." Shadowstep spoke up quickly, but then couldn't resist adding mischievously, "Not yet, anyways."

Priestess Feathershine frowned.

"Alright then. But... how did you even survive in Orgrimmar that long to have so very many people chasing you? It seemed you had been caught up in there for hours."

"My foster daughter gave us the idea." Feathershine instantly lied. "She and her husband streaked through Astranaar after their wedding, and talked about doing the same in the Crossroads, you know how it is. Jebidiath and I... well, we are far more modest and wore all our clothes, but decided to take on Orgrimmar instead. I wasn't about to be upstaged by that orphan whelp."

_Oh! I sounded just like you didn't I, Jebidiath? This is fun!_ Feathershine used a Mind Vision to tell Shadowstep.

"Yes, it was an impressive experience, though I would advise my dear girlfriend not to get too carried away next time..." he cautioned her about the deception.

Captain Treelance really didn't want to hear any more and changed the subject. "How do you plan to handle Myrielle?"

"Plan? What plan? I _know_ what needs to be done about her. I wasn't the Master Rogue for so long by hoping people would remain loyal to me. As if the eventuality of the Second Commander usurping my powernever crossed my mind... I just need to get her alone to work that woman's conscience. Clearly, after being so fiercely loyal to me for so long, Master Rogue Steamer–damn him!–had more to do with it than she did. Oh, and Feathershine, you should come too."

She brightened. "I should? You want me... to help you with your secret Master Rogue work? Really?"

Shadowstep reached across their Nightsabers and took his love's hand. "Deliah, from now on I want to include you in every aspect of my life." he turned to Captain Treelance. "Which reminds me, there is something Deliah and I need to chat about. We're nearly to Auberdine by now, but do you mind if she and I ride ahead? Our Wreathe Day is almost over and I want to make sure we end it properly."

Feathershine really started to smile then.

They didn't exactly go to Auberdine. They reigned in their mounts some miles from the coastal village, and walked along the quiet beach holding hands.

"We've come a long way, Deliah."

Feathershine smiled up at Shadowstep. They were afraid to broach the ominous topic, what could mean the end of their relationship considering all the issues they had to work out. It made them shy with each other, like when they were teenagers seventy years ago.

"I... like you a lot."

"Really?" Feathershine hopped on bare feet in the cool sand.

"Yes, I do. I don't want to lose you. That is why..." he stopped walking and stared off into the dark water. The ocean waves splashed and yawned gently. "I am going to stop being the Master Rogue for you."

"What? But you love your job! And, what about Myrielle?"

"It's time I moved on anyway. I spoke about naming a successor for months... but really, I was just toying with certain rogues to keep them in line. It worked very well too." he grinned. "Now I have to go through the arduous process of really picking someone... When all I want to do is just run away with you, Deliah, forever."

Shadowstep sat down, a little dejected. "I really gave us a hard time, didn't I?"

Feathershine joined him and lay her head on his shoulder. "I made it even worse. I know you well, I suspected what you were up to many times, but I was so caught up in saving other people... I denied every warning sign, that our relationship was in trouble. You were driven to your wits end, and of course, when I was forced to see the truth, I couldn't stand to think of myself as part of the trouble. I blamed everything on you. Honestly, my job is just a menace to us."

"But you are a Priestess of Elune–"

"And more dedicated than even High Priestess Tyrande. I am not the leader of the Night Elf people. But that is how seriously I take everything." she paused for a long while. "Jebidiath, let's retire."

"Pah! Only the mortal races do that... Oh, I see." Night Elves weren't immortal any more. "I agree, Deliah. It's best to enjoy each other fully, while we still can." He kissed her. "And we have wasted more time than most."

Priestess Feathershine kissed him back. "We still have... right now." she pulled him over her, began to undress him.

"I love you Deliah, you are the most beautiful woman in the world."

"And you are the most dangerous man I have ever come across." She pulled her robe up over her head. "Don't ever change. I like saving you the most."

Shadowstep smiled at her and they enjoyed the last few hours of their Wreath Day, more than forty days delayed, in each other's eager arms.

_Later, in the Temple of Elune in Darnassus..._

"Fine, ask me what you want, Priestess Lotuslight, but I have absolutely nothing to hide." Mistress Rogue Myrielle walked boldly into the tiny white confessional room with her arms crossed over her full bosom. "I'm going to pass this trial with flying colors."

Priestess Lotuslight shut door behind a startled Myrielle and locked it. An ominous voice then said, "Only because _I_ was the one who taught you how to lie to a Priestess of Elune. Well, we're not doing that anymore, are we Feathershine?" Shadowstep said.

Myrielle blanched.

"No, we are not." Feathershine growled at the other woman. "Welcome to your trial, Mistress Rogue Myrielle Fadeleaf. Have a seat."

They swore her in and then Myrielle sat facing the angry priestess known to be exceptionally wrathful when it came to people she cared about. Myrielle's long time mentor stood directly behind her in the small room that wasn't even big enough to spread your arms out in and breathed down her neck.

"Did that Gnome really please you so much, that your loyalty to me flew right out of your head, Myrielle? Or did you always hate me that much, that you couldn't wait to ruin my life the first opportunity you got?"

Shadowstep asked it that way, intentionally. They weren't going to go through a whole list of excuses that the woman no doubt had prepared.

"I... it was Steamy's idea!"

"Steamy?" Feathershine grunted.

"He was the one who told me about the Conclave of Master Rogues in the first place! And then he made me add your name to the Wanted Poster!"

"Oh, but you had no qualms about putting my babies' names on that document?" Feathershine snapped back. "My children have gone through hell finding love after the lives they had. Tell me why I should have any mercy on you, Child of Elune!"

Myrielle pouted with her round lips.

"I'm going to tell you the same thing Shadowstep told Alessandre when we had him in this exact room for his trial. I'm the wrong gender for that sort of way out, Myrielle!" Feathershine stormed.

"And I'm taken, so you can forget about seducing me." Shadowstep amended the thought. He gave Feathershine a fleeting look of admiration.

"I... I..." Myrielle stammered.

"Go on, child. Lie to me, though I can tell what you are doing, with my Mind Vision spell." Feathershine was now the good cop. She reached across the small marble table between them and took Myrielle's hand lovingly. "I understand that you are a rogue, and that is what rogues do, from time to time. My dearest Jebidiath taught me that lesson, while we were vacationing. If you feel that is what you need to do, to save yourself, go ahead and blame a certain Gnome scapegoat. We won't mind."

Shadowstep joined in. "Yes, Myrielle. You know, I actually am very proud of you, for following so well in my footsteps. You only became a little overzealous, didn't you? And tempted by someone extremely devious and clever... you did what came naturally, by overthrowing me. I'm sure that all you want to do is apologize so we can all pretend that nothing ever happened."

Myrielle bowed her head. "Yes! I confess... Master Rogue Steamer made me do it. That Stanley... he knew my weakness for exotic men, that I was still getting over how Alessandre chose Opalbane and not me. It felt like a break up to watch them get married months ago... I'm still getting over it. Furthermore, I was vulnerable and sad without my Guild leader..."

"Yadda yadda yadda..." Shadowstep rolled his eyes. "A wonderful sob story. Now, as Master Rogue, I am going to punish you like you've never been punished before..."

"What! I've not handed power over to you!" Myrielle flared. How quickly she became unashamed when it came to keeping her lofty position.

"I'm sorry, Myrielle." Feathershine told her. "I thought you understood that lying under oath during a trial with a Priestess of Elune was illegal. To blaspheme such a sacrosanct ritual... why, it's punishable by a lifetime of imprisonment inside Teldrassil."

"Teldrassil doesn't have a prison! And you are the ones who encouraged me to lie!"

"But it was your choice, dear. Free will and all." she waved a dismissive hand. "And yes, there is a jail that only Priestesses of Elune know about. The worst of the worst get sent there, and you'd better believe that within that massive trunk there is plenty of room for more. You know the Sentinels who go too far, that get homicidal and High Priestess Tyrande can't even control them? They are down there too, as happy prison guards. I'm sure they'd love another soul to torture for eternity..."

"Alright, alright, fine. I hereby step down from the position of Mistress Rogue," she whimpered, "and hand it back to you, Shadowstep."

"Good. Because if you continued to resist my blackmailing you, you would be in prison regardless and I'd still get my title back. Don't make those kind of eyes at me. I'd be more than happy to give you that sort of punishment, for how you betrayed me. I trusted you, Myrielle!"

Feathershine quietly asked for Shadowstep to calm down. "Let's move on from here, shall we? I'm eager to run away with you, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart? What... so Mission Implausible worked, urp! I mean... um congratulations, you two, for finally getting back together." Myrielle said nervously.

Shadowstep sighed. "You were right from the start, Myrielle. Feathershine did find out about how I tricked her over the years. But after some act of the goddess..." he looked up to the ceiling, "I'm not sure if it was a kind or wrathful act yet, because though everything worked out it felt like I was in hell... I got a second chance to make it up to my Deliah. Now we're right again."

Myrielle felt a lot of heat coming from the both of them, and let Shadowstep have her seat across from Priestess Feathershine.

"That's wonderful, Shadowstep. But um... there's also the little problem of those mind control devices that Steamy wants to force all the rogues to use? How are we going to resolve that?"

Shadowstep took Feathershine's hands and kissed them. "Oh, nevermind about that. He's a bit mad, but not exactly a traitor to the Alliance. I've recently learned just how far someone can go along those lines and still be loyal to their country. Besides, High Tinker Mekkatorque and King Magni Bronzebeard over in Ironforge rely on Master Rogue Steamer too much for me to do anything overt. It's just his zany way of grieving for his lost country. He'll present the idea to the others, but as usual, they won't take him seriously. But to get him back... I'll leak the information beforehand so that he knows his emasculating failure will be imminent. Heh, and when he dares to show his face at the next Master Rogue meeting for that silly presentation, it will be even _more_ emasculating. That should make him think twice before crossing the Kaldorei Rogue Network."

"So... it's not a crisis? Why did I give you back control of the KRN then?" Myrielle cursed herself.

Shadowstep looked up from his woman briefly. "Because, I don't let young people walk all over me, Myra. I'm the master. Also, you're going to clean up your own mess. I'm retiring, and taking Priestess Feathershine far, far away from Darnassus and her crazy family..."

Myrielle's eyes went wide. "I... oh my goodness, after everything, you still want me to–"

"No, I wouldn't dare let you be Mistress Rogue again. After I leave, I have absolutely no intention of coming back to clean up anyone's mess. You need someone to keep you in line Myrielle, and then the person I'm thinking of will need someone to keep him in check. Finally, she will need you to keep _her_ on the straight and narrow."

"But who–"

"After I settle some other business here today, the KRN will be, for the first time in history, governed by three Master Rogues, or, as Feathershine suggested, Triumvirs. You, Alessandre, and Wisthera can sort out for yourselves whom will take care of what. I really couldn't care less. But my job, which was too big for me alone and nearly ruined my life, is going to be split up between three capable people."

"Noooo! But I was your Second in Command for years! I did everything you ever told me to do, perfectly, and on time, even when you doubted me! How could you do this to me? I am _not_ going to spend the rest of my life bound to those two good-for-nothing, womanizing, con artist–"

"Revenge is a bitch, Myrielle. It fits your behavior towards me over the last few weeks. Either deal with it or get out of the KRN. Those are your choices."

Shadowstep said all this while completely fixed on Priestess Feathershine. They were beginning to look like they were going to need the confessional room to themselves.

Myrielle was about to pull out her hair, then stopped. "Wait... an assassin, a mastermind, and a patriot... this could actually work. _And_ I could still have a life on the side... maybe even a love life!"

"That is his small gift to you, Myrielle." Feathershine explained. "I'm glad you finally see it for what it was meant to be. I kept Shadowstep from going too far, and making you into Alessandre's footstool."

Myrielle thanked them profusely, then eager to enjoy her freedom, left.

"That was wonderful, Jebidiath. I never thought I'd ever see you be so ruthless and fair at the same time. Oh, how I adore you..."

"Will you let me adore you one last time before we end our careers... right here? We've had so many memories in this room. Ruined so many criminals' lives–"

"Mended so many penitents' lives." Feathershine said at the same time. They both laughed. Feathershine crawled over the table and made herself comfortable in her boyfriend's lap. "Please do..."

After very tenderly saying goodbye to Feathershine's old confessional room, Master Rogue Shadowstep left her so that he could take care of a few last things. One discreet, the other a spectacle. Shadowstep rescinded the wanted poster that Myrielle made for himself, Alessandre, and Wisthera by tearing it down from the Bank. Then, after learning from local authorities that the poor rogues were already in jail, Shadowstep marched over, followed by a throng of curious passerby, most of whom were KRN rogues. Wisthera and Alessandre were overjoyed when Shadowstep threw open their prison cells and then offered both of them jobs to boot. Both Alessandre and Wisthera hugged him. Because of their checkered pasts both of them had serious money problems. Nor could their spouses couldn't afford the expensive Darnassian bail with families to think of. Shadowstep humbly apologized for stringing them along for so many months when they were clearly prodigy rogues and in such dire straights. To this, they said:

"I'm getting his office!" Wisthera and Alessandre shouted at once. Shadowstep left them to either duke it out or celebrate with their significant others. He had one last secret plan to enact, and then there were two important ladies he had to see.

High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind inclined her head when Shadowstep and Priestess Feathershine came forward, holding their Letters of Resignation.

"The two of you," she sighed, "are among the best. I feel that... we are gathered here today, to unite a man and a woman–"

"What?" Feathershine flinched. "Did you just say..."

"A man and a woman who have done a great service to the Kaldorei people. Really, Feathershine, your eagerness is welcome as always, but I must be allowed to finish my sentences."

Shadowstep urged Feathershine to do as she was told. The woman couldn't help feeling like she was being ganged up on. "Sorry, High Priestess."

"When Elune blesses two people with such a love as yours," she reached over and took their farewell letters, inspecting them carefully. "It is good to join them thus, in the name of the Light and the Goddess..."

Feathershine raised another eyebrow. Tyrande said quickly, "Don't you think so, Shadowstep?"

He fought back a smile. "I do."

"And what about you, Feathershine?"

"Huh? I mean... what are you getting at High Priestess? We're just turning in our final statements. Where will you be sending the last of our salary?"

"Wherever you like. But answer my question first. Will you take Jebidiath Shadowstep, as he is, in sickness and in health, till death do you part... when you leave Darnassus, I mean?"

Feathershine squinted an eye. "Um... of course I will. I love him deeply."

High Priestess Tyrande and Shadowstep shared a smile.

"Wonderful. I now pronounce you... retired. Shadowstep, take her and kiss her, and do have a happy life together. I am proud of both of you."

"Wait a minute, this conversation is very strange–"

Shadowstep kissed Feathershine passionately then. High Priestess Tyrande shuffled their letters in her hands and waved them a hasty farewell. Her assistant priestesses and the Sentinels nearby looked oddly pleased. Some of them even cried.

"I'll miss you too." Feathershine said, not fully understanding. As they walked out of the temple, Feathershine asked her now husband, "Do you have any idea what just happened back there? They were all acting so strangely."

Shadowstep dodged the question. "If I asked you again, would you ever marry me?"

"I don't know... we've been through so much, I'd be too nervous about going through with it at last. I think we should just be casual and enjoy each other. We're too old for that anyway, Jebidiath."

Shadowstep should have been heartbroken but he wasn't. "And in answer to your question, Tyrande just did me a very large favor, by giving us such a painless send off."

"Really? I didn't notice... Are we in any trouble about that little family excursion? What would she have said otherwise? What was the favor, exactly?"

At the Cenarion Enclave, Shadowstep helped his wife onto her Nightsaber and then brought his own around. He generously tipped the Stable Master.

"Deliah, I promise you that we aren't in any danger, but quite the opposite. We have each other in the perfect way that we always dreamed, even if one of us wasn't ready for it yet. All that I can say for now is, that... there was no way I was walking away from Darnassus without pledging my undying love to you, forever. Does that please you, my Deliah?"

"But you never said exactly–"

"Yes I did. You weren't paying attention. I'll tell you again later, when you're ready to hear it."

"Listen here, old man, I'll not be manipulated. I have my eye on you, you aren't going to talk me in circles... not that song and dance again. We're going to Feathermoon Stronghold to start our lives together and that is it. No more funny business! No tricks, do you hear me?"

Shadowstep could only smile at his unsuspecting wife. "Yes dear." he said. It pleased him that it would be the first of many times, saying something so simple to someone he fought so hard for, and won.

"Jebidiath Shadowstep, you haven't changed one bit!" she accused, still sensing danger if she did not exactly see it.

They rode their mounts over to the glowing red portal that would take them to the base of Teldrassil.

"And I promised you that I wouldn't, dear. Today, I am finally done with missions, with foolishness, with running myself ragged over other people's problems. The only thing I want to do now is keep that promise to you. Now, turn around Deliah, and say goodbye to Darnassus."

"She _has_ treated us well, Jebidiath. I'll miss her so much."

They both waved goodbye, then turned their mounts to walk within the red magic.

"Don't worry, Deliah. She's finally in good hands now. Just like you are." Shadowstep kissed his wife's hand and then they both disappeared.


	25. Surprise Epilogue!

**The Romancer Shadowstep**

I worked so hard on this series, what came out of my first fanfiction called The Romancer Onyxbane. So much thought went into this story. What you are about to read below is not just an epilogue. When I decided to make The Romancer Shadowstep the last story in the series, I had to let go of my plans to further the plot. To me, all this stuff was meant to happen to our Romancers, and I didn't want to just let it sit in my head forever. So I boiled everything down into this final piece, for you to read and enjoy how the story was meant to end.

**Epilogue: Back to the Romancers... In the future!**

Alessandre Mirothalas Shademoon Junior eyed Leilah Springvine as she walked to the Druid trainer in Dolanaar Village. She had pale blue skin and white hair, walked with a definite switch.

"Oh yea, baby, I know you know that I'm watching you." Al smirked. "Oh man, Reaper, I can't wait to ask her to my first Springtime."

Sissimarillion Bane, who hated his name and told everyone to call him Reaper... much to his mother's disappointment, punched his cousin in the shoulder. "Al, you can't ask her! It's going to be my first Springtime too, and you know that I like her."

"Meh. You know better than I do that between the two of us, I'm the better romancer. Why, when my father was my age, he had ten girlfriends _and_–"

"Stop talking like that! You are not Uncle Alessandre... you're a virgin just like me!"

"Shh!" Al Jr. took his cousin and friend, who already felt like a brother aside. "Not in front of the ladies..."

"Look, I don't think we should fight over her, Al. Mom and Dad told me this story about how when they were younger, one time there was this Human mage who liked him but then mom–"

"Ugh! Is this the same story I heard growing up? Come on, that was way back in the old days, even before the Burning Crusade. Now that's long done. We're gonna be men, Reaper. We have to take this world by storm, we have to–"

Reaper grabbed Al by the collar and shook him. For a novice priest he was pretty frightening. "We're not going to fight over her, you understand me? Now go pick someone else. You're my best friend and I don't want to have to knock your block off."

"Fine, fine," Al wandered off and dusted off his shirt like it was nothing. "Catch you later."

"Don't dare do the Relics of Wakening without me! I need that quest..."

Al waved him off and stealthed. Even though one could see him doing it at this level he thought he was a master spy or something, like his father Triumvir Alessandre.

Al watched Leilah descend the ramp of the treehouse and decloaked right in the middle of the moonwell there when she stopped to check her reflection.

"Hey there... do you want to take _the_ Alessandre to your first Springtime? We could have a great time together..."

Leilah giggled and gave a shy yes.

As one might expect, sleeping with the girl his cousin liked rubbed Reaper the wrong way. He and Al were never the same again.

"Dad! I made up my mind. I'm going to go train in the Human lands."

His mother, Triumvir Wisthera objected to this immediately. "You're too young for Westfall! And no son of mine is going anywhere near those manstealing, lying, lingerie-making Humans!"

Onyxbane put his hands on his hips and shook his head at his wife. They lived in a large treehouse mansion in the Oracle Glade near Darnassus. With all the money his wife was making from being a Triumvir of the Kaldorei Rogue Network, _and_ being a double agent for the Steamwheedle Cartel... whatever game she was running Wisthera told Onyxbane he couldn't know anymore than that, enabled them to have several nice homes. They cleared some land and built this one so that they could be closeby their son while he trained.

"Wisthera, that was thirteen years ago now. You should really let that thing with Willypearl go."

"There! You said that harpy's name! You promised me you'd never say that name in my house!"

Onyxbane smacked his forehead and took his son aside. "Reaper my boy..."

"Sissimarillion! That is his birthname, and yours, or did you forget?"

Onyxbane finally took his son into the next room. The walls were covered with finely crafted blacksmithing projects he proudly kept like trophies. Through an exclusive Steamwheedle Cartel mail order service he could get the materials and recipes he wanted through a catalogue. His wife's fortune certainly helped the hobby.

"Son, I'm proud of you. And I understand. When I was your age, I left Teldrassil too, to go down to the Human lands. I told myself that I was going to become a man but... honestly it was because your aunty and grandmother were driving me crazy. Going was the best thing I ever did because it gave me a chance to come up normally."

Reaper nodded eagerly.

"But son... if you're going because of what Al Jr. did, I think you should try your best and make up with him instead. His father and I fight all the time, but I consider him my very best friend."

"Al Junior is dead to me!" Reaper announced in a booming warrior voice, though he was a priest.

Nextdoor, one could hear his mother Wisthera fretting over this.

Onyxbane scratched through his twin white braids, a hairdo his son also favored, and sighed. "Alright. You can go. But you write us regularly so that we know how you're doing. If you don't write us, you won't get any support from your mother or me... okay? Gold for keeping in contact with us. Deal?"

"Yes sir."

"That's my boy."

Reaper went to go and pack his things. After thinking for a while, Onyxbane got something from his workbench and followed.

"Son? I... couldn't stand to let you go down there without some kind of protection."

"Dad, I tell you all the time, priests can protect themselves. Just because I don't fight like you, a warrior, or in mom's way like a rogue... ugh, I hate rogue-work. Mom's always leaving for Tanaris, isn't she? And keeping so many secrets."

Onyxbane shrugged. "Rogues aren't such bad people. You'd do well to learn that now, before going into Westfall. Lots of rogues down there. But son, I wanted to give you this."

After hesitating, Onyxbane handed him his old Arcanite Reaper.

"But dad! You... love this axe. And now it's practically legendary, with the Burning Crusade over..."

"I always wanted you to have it. And I don't care what anyone says about you being a priest. You're my son. I raised you on this axe and you can fight with it if you want. Don't let anyone tell you different!"

This coincided well with the recent expansion in Azeroth. Beyond racing to the Frozen Throne to face the Wrath of the Lich King, countless soldiers of Azeroth were also merging their classes into other ones like Deathknights. Like the way many famous racial leaders were both one class and another. Battlepriest shouldn't come off too strange. But at age thirteen?

Reaper complained much the same thing to his father.

"You'll do fine. Study well, stay _away_ from those shadowpriests in Stormwind, and you'll do fine. I'll take care of your mother." Then they hugged.

"Onyxbane, I don't care what you said, he is _not_ going!" Wisthera shouted through the house as her son crept to the door with his things, and the Arcanite Reaper strapped across his back.

He heard some of his father's muffled voice from back inside the house. "No, Sara, _you _aren't going anywhere... come here."

Reaper hurried to climb down the tree before hearing the rest. He was sort of used to hearing his parents get amorous because it happened fairly often, especially when his mother came home from long stays in Tanaris. That was another benefit to leaving home: never ever having to hear that again.

Reaper found Westfall beautiful. Sure it was dry and they still hadn't been able to settle that problem with the Defias his father had told him about, but everything was golden. Lots of peace and quiet. It was hard getting used to being one of only a few Night Elves around though.

He was about to learn, the same way that his father had... that being the only available Night Elf man for miles around had its advantages.

Lady Mae Ella Pontier eyed Reaper as he checked his mail in front of the inn. She and her friends were hanging out near the Flight Master gossiping.

"Who's that?" she asked a blonde Human girl who was holding her purse.

"Oh, him. He's the new kid around here... a priest."

"A priest? A priest! Carrying an old axe like that?"

"I think he's a heroic class..." another girl piped in.

"Is he like, a battle priest of the eightieth level?" Mae Ella boggled.

"No! He's our age. He's soo cool... and look at all that gold he's getting out of the mail!"

Mae Ella narrowed her eyes at the young male Night Elf. "He _so _is cool. And he's _so_ mine..."

Reaper was only a little shy when the beautiful moca skinned girl tapped him on the shoulder. It was hard for a Night Elf of that age to be completely shy around the opposite sex. Springtimes were designed for that purpose. If you're comfortable with running off into the woods and having sex with a complete stranger and it's socially acceptable for everyone, you pretty much have no trouble talking to a girl afterwards.

"Good Afternoon, Ma'am." he smiled.

"I like you. You're coming to my party. It's at Eastvale Logging Camp." she snapped and one of her snooty gum-chewing girlfriends handed him an invitation. Mae Ella whispered into his ear, "And my parents won't be home at the mansion... See you there."

Reaper had a dumb grin on his face while she and her friends strutted away.

"Dude!" A human paladin ran up to him. "Do you know who that is! You're so lucky!"

Reaper shrugged that he didn't.

"That's Lady Mae Ella Pontier! Her father is only the most famous paladin ever, Sir Elec Pontier?"

Reaper still shook his head. More boys came over. "Her mother pretty much owns all of the Willy's Secret lingerie stores in Azeroth! Even the ones on Outland and Northrend!"

"Ohhh."

"What do you mean, 'Oh?' That's so hot! She's practically swimming in it, and she invited you to this hot party with her cute friends and not even her parents are going to be home in that gigantic mansion! Man! I wish she'd invite me."

Reaper raised both his white eyebrows. "Wow." So his mother _had_ been right about the Humans and their obsession with lingerie. Too bad she'd banned his father from bringing up the whole Willypearl thing. Their son didn't remember the name of the woman who almost kept his parents apart. Reaper had no idea what he was getting into...

The party was wild. Lady Mae Ella, the apple of her parents' eye, had all the servants wrapped around her little finger. They kept bringing them food and wine, and there was loud music. Reaper didn't recognize any of the other guys there, but a young man named Sam saw Reaper's rare axe and befriended him early on in the party. He figured the Night Elf was someone incredibly important. "Lord of Darkshire, Lord of Redridge... well their fathers are anyway." Sam filled him in on the guests. "Everyone here is golden uppercrust of Stormwind society, _golden_. You've made it to the big leagues." The young man patted him on the back.

"Wow. So... what do I do now?"

Sam smirked. "You kidding me? Just flash your good bloodlines around. That's what these kinds of ladies want to hear. I'll assume that since you were invited in the first place, your parents are famous Night Elves, right?"

"Well, our society isn't like that. Everyone is equal..." he abandoned that notion when he saw how bored his new important friend was getting. "My mom is the Triumvir of Darnassus. And we have lots of houses, _mansions_, all over the place."

"Nice. Well, you better tell her that. Good luck." Sam slinked away when Mae Ella came and handed Reaper a drink.

"Hey there, Reaper. Glad you could make it."

"Yea, I... did I ever tell you my mom, Wisthera, is the Triumvir of–"

"You're so hot. Let's go to my room and make out."

Of course... considering Mae Ella's lifestyle, that meant a lot of other things too. Reaper was a little surprised at her generosity but he wasn't one to turn it down.

Meanwhile, Al Jr. finally admitted to himself that he felt terrible about betraying his friend.

"Son, you'd better go apologize, before someone gets hurt."

Alessandre and his son were playing checkers outside the tiny cottage they kept in Ashenvale. They weren't as ridiculously wealthy as Reaper and his parents, but the tiny yellow house held some kind of sentimental value for his father and they went there sometimes on the weekends.

His mother Opalbane sat in his father's lap drinking lemonade. Al Jr. was used to seeing his parents like this. Maybe all that overflowing affection is what caused their son to come out so girl-crazy.

"I know... but I can't go all the way to Westfall."

"Why not?" Opalbane asked. She left off sipping her drink to steal a kiss from her husband.

Al Jr. smiled at this and took advantage of the distraction. He loved playing checkers with his father for that very reason.

"King me, dad."

"What? Oh... not again!" he frowned. "You're getting smarter than your old dad."

Opalbane fawned over her husband. "Awww... no, Al you're as clever as you ever were." Opalbane looked up, realizing the name they had in common. "Both of you boys are my favorites, my clever rogues. Anyone want more lemonade?"

Opalbane excused herself, but not before Alessandre pinched her first.

He left off laughing when his wife disappeared into the cottage.

"Son, what you did was wrong." Alessandre got serious.

"But you should have seen Leilah! I really scored with that one."

Alessandre started to chuckle, but then remembered himself. "Err... you really don't want to live that kind of life, I swear. I love your mother so much. If I wasn't wasting my time chasing after all those other women... I think I would have met your mother a lot sooner." he looked off into the distance, wistful. "She was in Stormwind so many times over the years while I was there, and I never met her, hanging out in Cutthroat Alley, picking pockets... if I'd gone to the Cathedral just once–"

"Dad, I'm not like you. I'm actually young, I want to have some fun. You're not really telling me that you hated all that attention, all that tail..."

"Al Jr., don't talk about women that way!" Opalbane admonished when she came back.

Alessandre leaned back and watched his wife as she bent over the table to hand out the lemonade.

Opalbane clucked her tongue. "Look at you! And you wonder where he gets it from." she slapped him in the shoulder with a dishtowel she was carrying.

"Honestly, son, do you want my opinion? What you did to Reaper was so mean. It really was. There is no one in the world to me more precious than my brother,"

"Same here." Alessandre agreed regarding Onyxbane.

"...and you and Reaper are fortunate to have grown up so close. Now, if you want to go find him in Westfall and make up then your dad and I will pay for the trip, so don't worry."

Al Jr. propped his feet up on the table like his father. He folded his arms across his stomach too. It wasn't really on purpose, but it was clear how much he admired his namesake. "Well, alright."

"Good, I'll start getting your things together." Opalbane wandered back into the cottage. "I hope you have enough clean underwear..."

"Mooom! You're embarrassing me infront of dad."

Alessandre chuckled. "Good, I'm glad you're going to do the right thing, Al." He removed his feet and leaned over the finished checkers game. "But I got one word of advice for you."

"Yes?"

"Stay _away_ from those dirty druids and stay _away_ from Cutthroat Alley! You understand me, boy!"

"Yessir." Al Jr. snapped to attention.

"And no more telling people that you are a rogue _and_ a druid, like me! You aren't a heroic class and it's dangerous... I already hate that, after that stupid investigation regarding the Archdruid in Silithus, that everyone now knows that about me in the first place."

Al Jr. reluctantly promised that he would.

Weeks later, when he saw Lady Mae Ella Pontier waiting on the docks at Menethil Harbor, he completely forgot about the advice though.

"Hey there." he winked at the young woman.

Mae Ella rolled her eyes at him. She was going and he was coming. He watched her get onto the ship, alone. It reminded him of a certain story his father told him once long ago... about a lone woman he found waiting on a ship to Darnassus...

Al Jr. scratched his jaw, thinking about it. He had to trek to Ironforge and then to Stormwind to find Reaper. But this was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

"Did you know," Al said as he jumped onto the ship back to Darnassus at the final moment, "That feral druids have more stamina?"

Mae Ella laughed a little and walked across deck into the empty cabin. "Do they really? That sounds weird. You're kinda cute actually... what's your name?"

"Alessandre, as in _the_ Alessandre? My dad is Triumvir of Darnassus." he followed and sat on the bed beside the Human girl.

Mae Ella, despite her kindly mother and her paladin father, had come up extremely rebellious when it came to certain things. This very handsome young man with dark purple skin and a mane of full white hair was not just available but now he was also rich and famous.

"I had a fight with my parents after I threw this party at the mansion... I'm going to train in the Night Elf lands, _away_ from them."

Al Jr. sidled up next to Mae Ella in the empty cabin of the ship. "Hey, beautiful, I understand." then he yawned and wrapped his arm around her. "Looks like we're alone... wanna see what a man with the strength of a rogue _and_ a druid can do?" Why explain that his father was actually the one who was part-druid?

Mae Ella, who really needed a good heart to heart with her mother regarding her easy nature, regardless of her mother's famous lingerie stores, simply shrugged.

"K. If not we'll be super bored alone on this boat anyway."

That was all the encouragement Al needed to start making himself a legend like his dear old dad.

Months went by, and the family was finally able to convince the boys to get back together. It was in the guise of a family reunion that summer. Surprisingly enough, It had been Shadowstep's idea. He wasn't the Master Rogue anymore, but he still seemed to have a few tricks up his sleeve.

At Wisthera's second enormous mansion in the wilds of Ashenvale, the whole family was outside relaxing and enjoying themselves.

Reaper and Alessandre had fought earlier, but that turned to playing around. Now they'd gone off hiking together.

"Master Rogue, you old dog... how did you know this would fix everything?" Alessandre walked over and patted the man who felt like his father-in-law on the back.

"Aw... so nice of you to call me that, Al, but it's been a long time."

"Not long enough. Now I know why you handed this job over to me so easily. Wish I could give it back." he joked.

He and Shadowstep laughed together. Onyxbane began to deal them their cards. "How come I keep losing? I think it's because I'm playing against two rogues, you manipulative bastards..."

"Onyx... I'm still a rogue, remember?"

Onyxbane quickly apologized to his wife. "The way she does it though, I don't mind." he told Alessandre and Shadowstep who started laughing even harder.

Priestess Feathershine sat with Opalbane at the far end of the wood table, playing checkers.

"Oh, to see everyone sooo very happy, just like one big family." Feathershine smiled.

Of course Opalbane was playing the black pieces. That sort of color still appealed to her. "Yes, it's nice isn't it? I'm glad your Shadowstep suggested it. He really seems to have come around."

Feathershine beamed. "Oh! I _adore_ him. He is always thinking of me. Everyday for lunch he brings in fresh flowers from Feralas to set the table, just for me. Such a sweetheart."

Opalbane slid a piece across the checkerboard, then waited. "You two... should probably just get married after how nicely everything's been going where you live together in Feathermoon Stronghold... right?"

Feathershine shushed her. "No! I don't want to go that far."

"But you've been practically living like it."

"I really don't want to have children... I couldn't at my age anyway. And I don't want to disappoint Jebidiath."

Opalbane blinked. "Why? How could you ever disappoint him? I've never observed a man so in love, especially at his age."

Now, Feathershine and Shadowstep were almost a hundred years old. They still looked fairly young though, like people in their fifties, since they were Night Elves.

"You _know _what I mean... I see how you and Alessandre get along. I was too afraid before, after that business years ago in Orgrimmar," she whispered, "And now I'm just too old, simple as that. I'd feel like a fool if... if he rejected me after all these years."

Opalbane frowned. "Mom... you shouldn't talk about yourself like that. Everyone deserves a bit of happiness. Look how I came out."

A noise came from down the hill. People were arguing loudly in Common.

"What the–" Wisthera started. She was grilling deer meat on a spit over a campfire. "I don't remember inviting anyone else... and this is private property."

"I'll take care of it," Onyxbane got up and pulled one of his newest creations, a twin bladed axe made of Khorium out from under the table.

"He keeps those things like pets, I swear." Alessandre whispered to Shadowstep. Shadowstep had reached across the table and was looking at Onyxbane's cards.

"You old dog..." Alessandre started laughing.

"Hey, don't look at me like that. We planned to swindle him like this..."

"Onyx, wait! I think it's... um... Willypearl." Opalbane winced. "I invited her."

"You WHAT!" Wisthera started swearing.

Back in the woods, Reaper and Al Jr. looked at each other. "What in the heck is she doing here!" they both said together when they peered through the trees at the Human family coming up the path.

After figuring it out, they each agreed not to say a word. They spit into their palms, shook hands and swore allegiance once and for all.

Opalbane rushed over to meet her best friend. It had been years since they saw each other last. That was a shame too, because it turned out that they both got pregnant the same year, thirteen years ago. Their son and daughter could have grown up together.

Willypearl flashed a kindly smile.

"So good to see yall again! Hi Onyxbane!" she said in her Westfall accent.

Her husband, Sir Elec Pontier looked very solemn beside her. Mae Ella had her arms nervously crossed over her chest. All of them were dressed in finely tailored outfits.

Onyxbane timidly waved. Wisthera was swearing loudly, then glared at her husband.

"You'll have to excuse my family, dears... we all had a little tiff before comin' out here. After Mae Ella," Willypearl furrowed her brow at the mention of her daughter's name. "Ran away from home a few months ago, it's never been the same."

"Mom! Don't tell people that!"

"She wouldn't have to tell people that you were a runaway if you didn't keep trying to do it, and so therefore make it necessary for everyone within range to keep an eye on you, young lady!" Elec carried a purple Khorium mace these days that Onyxbane smiled dumbly at.

"Hey Elec... you want to play some cards with us?"

The Human man blended in well at the gathering after that. Opalbane struggled to make her old friend Willypearl and her daughter feel at home, but Wisthera kept hovering around and mumbling words like 'harpy' and 'homewrecker' under her breath.

Willypearl politely ignored the crazy rogue woman.

Finally, Opalbane offered them both wine.

"No thanks." Mae Ella turned up her nose.

"Darlin'... she's just tryin' to be nice. I thought you would be happy here in Ashenvale, after you ran off and we had to come catch you. Now you can enjoy the pretty purple forest and the Night Elves..."

"I _said_ I don't want any stupid wine!"

"That's rude! And don't talk to me that way! Opalbane is our hostess, just drink the damn wine!"

Across the table, Elec apologized to the guys and started getting up...

"I can't!"

"Give me one reason why not!" Elec slammed his fist on the table.

Wisthera had called the boys back in from the woods and started to fuss over them to distract herself.

"Cause I'm pregnant!" Mae Ella flared, then covered her mouth. "It might... hurt the baby."

Al Junior and Reaper yelped.

Alessandre and Onyxbane looked at their sons and got it instantly.

"One went down to Westfall and came back bragging about this rich girlfriend of his, and the other takes a round trip on a boat to Menethil Harbor and comes back bragging about a rich girl _he_ met." Shadowstep observed and raised an eyebrow at Wisthera who looked confused. "You're the criminal mastermind, you do the math."

"Sissimarillion Reaper Bane!"

"Alessandre Mirothalas Shademoon Junior!"

Loud argument ensued. Willypearl wanted to know how, after she went halfway across the world to start her family without the intervention of the crazy Night Elves, they managed to find her daughter and get her knocked up. Wisthera heatedly put in that Mae Ella was clearly a slut like her mother who owned all those tacky lingerie stores. Opalbane was furious with Wisthera for maligning her Human friend's family, and then jumped on Willypearl for letting her daughter parade around Azeroth like that, tempting upstanding young man like her son.

"The son of a cultist and a criminal! Surrre, honey, he's upstandin'!" Willypearl flared.

The men stood aside, afraid to intervene.

Elec covered his face. "My daughter... how many lectures on the Light did I give her? But noo, she'd rather be a mage like her mother. And then Willypearl had to go and spoil her. Do you know she lets that girl pay other people to finish her quests?"

Alessandre and Onyxbane had got their sons by the arms.

"Do you see what you've done! Now we're going to be _related_ to them." Alessandre whispered harshly to Al Jr.

Onyxbane scoffed at this. "Willypearl's not such a bad person! I'm more worried about you becoming a father way before your time, Reaper. Do you know what your mother and I went through to have you? You aren't ready!"

Priestess Feathershine eventually made her way over to the retired Master Rogue Shadowstep. She gave him that old pleading look. He didn't look too surprised to see it.

"Family meeting!" Shadowstep announced and beckoned all the romancers over to the long wooden picnic table. Elec and Willypearl were more than happy to have a private moment with their deviant child.

The parents began to fight over whose son came out worse. Al Junior and Reaper were too smart to help along or hinder either case. They kept their mouths shut, and looked at Mae Ella at the other end of the long table, terrified.

"Look, there's only one way to settle this." Shadowstep said calmly. A certain adventure into Horde lands thirteen years earlier encouraged everyone in his family to calm down and listen. Feathershine rubbed his shoulder lovingly and gave a hopeful smile.

"All of these young people need to learn a lesson. I suggest we don't wait until someone runs off and becomes a cultist," he eyed Opalbane, "or a pervert," he eyed Onyxbane, "a con artist," Wisthera was the obvious choice for that accusation, "or an outlaw because of it. Now, I didn't say shame of the family because we settled that long ago with Shia'jin. Nobody here is to be ashamed of the place they have in this family. Just ashamed of their stupid, _stupid_ actions!"

Somehow, Shadowstep had turned himself into the patriarch of the family in a matter of moments.

"What should we do, Master Rogue?" Wisthera worried.

"You're asking me this? It's more than obvious." He pointed a finger in both the teenage Night Elves' faces. "You have to accept responsibility for your actions with that young woman. Each of you is going to marry her."

"WHAT!" all the parents flared at once.

"Only the Humans won't know that it's not an actual marriage. Wreathe Day ceremonies can look very similar to a wedding if you ask me. They'll think their daughter is getting security, but under Darnassian law, it will only be for a year... long enough for that kid to come out and for us to see if it's an elf or not. If it is, the two of you are screwed. But that's only fair, because you did it to yourselves anyway for acting so carelessly." he shrugged. "If not, then you're off the hook."

Feathershine nodded though Onyxbane, Wisthera, Alessandre, and Opalbane fretted about the solution, and said, "It's nothing less than what would happen anyway, a waiting game. But this way, you two get to learn responsibility while you're at it." then the retired Priestess of Elune narrowed her eyes at the two young men. "And it's impossible to get a woman pregnant while she's already pregnant, so even with those immoral hormones of yours, even you two can't screw it up! I say it's a fitting penance!"

When the Night Elves offered to take full responsibility for their sons' actions, Willypearl and Elec were relieved. The prospect of having their daughter live in an isolated little cottage in Ashenvale, away from the glittering temptations of a wealthy lingerie fashionista, was appealing too. And of course, having to live with two teenage boys would certainly humble Mae Ella towards her eager pursuit of the opposite sex. Elec and Willypearl secretly decided that it would only be until the baby was born and they could see whether or not it was a Night Elf. No one was going to get any of their family money or be living in the family mansion causing a scandal until that part was at least settled.

Shadowstep insisted that Opalbane be the one to do the ceremony, instead of Priestess Feathershine. Elec and Willypearl couldn't accuse them of lying later if an official Priestess of Elune didn't preside over the ceremony in the first place.

Alessandre Junior was crying when he put the wreathe of wildflowers on Mae Ella's head. Reaper tried to remain as calm as possible but when he put his wreathe of dandelions–he was left with no other option than to make one of weeds since his friend and cousin already got hold of the more conventional flowers–on Mae Ella's head also. The two boys would have run away from the whole thing if not for their angry warrior and rogue-druid fathers watching them collect materials to make the wreaths in the first place.

Right after they both said 'I do', something occurred to Reaper and he became distraught. "Wait... isn't this some kind of incest?!"

His family members all crossed their arms and growled at the two boys. Incest was saving the day... sigh, a third time.

Then two more uninvited guests showed up.

"What's this! Illegal gambling?" Triumvir Myrielle eyed the pile of gold near the interrupted card game between Elec, Shadowstep, Onyxbane, and Alessandre. Master Rogue Stanley the Steamer stood next to her, grinning. "And a mass wedding?"

"She's not a Priestess of Elune..." fellow Triumvir Alessandre growled to his coworker in warning.

"At the least, knowing Opalbane, it's probably some cultist ritual that's also against Darnassian law... But that doesn't matter. I came here to bust you two, and I see that I was right to do it! This is a circus of lawlessness coming from my own colleagues! Neither of whom are fit to lead the KRN!"

"Me? What did I do?" Wisthera panicked.

"This house... is ten times over the kaldorei limit. Tell me, did you cut _trees_ to put it here, in Ashenvale? That's against the law! And what self-respecting Night Elf would do that kind of labor and destroy our beautiful homeland. I don't know what you're doing over in Undermine, Triumvir Wisthera, but I bet the Steamwheedle Cartel helped you set up your house, bought and built on blood money, am I right?"

Wisthera sputtered stubbornly, then settled on, "Screenshots or it didn't happen."

That's when the Steamer came forward, brandishing his newest invention. He clicked a button on the top of the little black box and it flashed. A small piece of paper came out of a slot at the front. A picture of Wisthera's oversized house, the mass wedding, and the illegal card game were captured perfectly on glossy paper.

"I call this the photographic channeller... the latest technological evolution in spy-work." he grinned evilly.

Alessandre stepped forward and sneered at Myrielle. "You've been planning this all along, haven't you? You knew that we were having a family reunion this weekend... you chose to come up here right now, to do Wisthera and I in, once and for all. But why? The three of us Triumvirs have served the KRN well together over the last thirteen years. I settled the corruption scandal among the druids still in Silithus, Wisthera followed in your mentor's footsteps and broke the Steamwheedle Cartel case wide open... she even avoided the international repercussions by agreeing to become a double agent over it. The work she does in Undermine to represent the interests of Darnassus is critical to the survival of the Alliance, the stability of Azeroth even."

Myrielle frowned at him. "And what is my claim to fame, after all these wonderful years watching you and Wisthera get all chummy and seize more and more power from me, the more popular you get with Darnassus? I went down to Ironforge and cleaned up your messes, got the King of Ironforge and Mathias Shaw over in SI: 7 in Stormwind to trust the Kaldorei Rogue Network again. What I did made it possible for both of you to do your important work. But nooo, Myrielle Fadeleaf is the least popular Triumvir. No one cares that she risked her neck and almost ruined the love of her life just to get her colleagues on track. Everyone just loves the criminal mastermind and the assassin... but never the patriot! Well, it's high time you and Wisthera paid your dues!"

Alessandre yelled with frustration. "What are you going to do, Myrielle! There's no jail in all of Darnassus big enough to hold this entire family!"

Never doubt the wrath of an ex-girlfriend.

Myrielle remembered well the secret dungeon Priestess Feathershine described that existed within the trunk of Teldrassil. Though it wasn't as bad as the Priestess of Elune described. The insane Sentinels who escorted them to their large family-sized cell were delightfully mad, in that they actually liked their job.

They grinned whenever a prisoner did something wrong. They liked seeing to it. Alessandre cautiously observed for his other family members that it meant the crazy Sentinels probably enjoyed torturing their prisoners too. Their cell was across from one where a corrupted ancient tree giant sat behind bars, mumbling about burning things.

"This sucks! Why do we have to sit in here!" Al junior complained.

His father Alessandre, Opalbane, Onyxbane, Wisthera, Willypearl, Elec, Mae Ella, and Reaper sat dejected against the three cold walls. The last and fourth wall was all bars.

Elec, a paladin of the Silver Hand, had completely lost heart. "Between my daughter marrying out of wedlock and my being convicted of unseemly things and thrown into a Darnassian jail... my good family name is finally ruined." his shoulders shrugged as he whimpered.

"They... took my axe." Onyxbane worried.

His son knelt next to him, a more youthful version in everything except for the white priest's robe he wore. "They took my axe too, dad." he patted his father's back.

Alessandre had turned himself into a purple nightsaber and was pacing up close to the narrow bars as if he were caught in a trap. "Urge to kill... _rising..._"

Opalbane sighed. "Come here, Al honey. I think it's time for your therapy."

"His what?" Willypearl's eyes got wide.

"Shadowstep helped Alessandre find a therapist after we got married. A kindly druid woman–you'd like her, Willy–who understands his emotional problems that arose when the Archdruid in Silithus tried to destroy his mana." This was common knowledge in the Alliance now. The work Alessandre did as Triumvir in Silithus forced his long held secret to come out in the open. Far different from what Alessandre anticipated, it just made him more popular with the ladies because now he was proven to be truly half-animal as well as a mysterious rogue. And what with the heroic classes starting up...

"Can I... pet him too?" Willypearl peered across the long cell where Alessandre lay purring with his purple furry head in his wife's lap. She gently scratched him behind the ear.

Wisthera and Opalbane flinched together. "NO!"

A familiar voice carried up from the cell just beyond the one with the crazy ancient in it. Alessandre was the only one who understood the raspy Trollish.

"Shai'jin!" the purple nightsaber Alessandre raced back to the bars.

Onyxbane, Opalbane, and Wisthera rushed over to see too. It was an odd angle, but they could just barely make out their long-lost blue Troll relative, and the waving hand of a green Orc woman.

"Pasha be here wit' me too." Shia'jin told them. Alessandre translated for his family. Elec and Willy gave them strange looks for talking to what sounded like members of the Horde and decided they didn't want to know what was going on.

"How have you been! We haven't seen each other since... well, it's been thirteen years! How'd you get in here?" Alessandre asked.

"I be good mon, and Pasha too. Well, it be a long story, but basically we got caught killing Night Elves in the starting area."

Only Shia'jin's strange family members seemed to understand, though Willypearl and the others looked horrified. Back when they first met, Shia'jin explained to them that because of the Old God Zar'teaus' curse, he and his family members swore to shed no Night Elf blood. That sort of made he and his Troll family members outcasts among the Horde, ontop of already being Darkspear Trolls living in Durotar with Orcs. But, after the curse was lifted, he was finally free to enjoy being a member of the Horde in every way.

"Good for you!" Opalbane cheered. Unlike his ex-cultist sister, and his ex-convict wife, and his ex-psycho murderer brother-in-law, Onyxbane had no creepy history to back up that congratulatory feeling. He rolled his eyes. Next, Alessandre asked on behalf of everyone, "Where's Faltheriel? Did you guys..."

Shia'jin shrugged from what they could see. "He was real good for me mon, at first. When I was just comin' out of da closet and needed some more confidence. Den it became clear that Faltheriel really was crazy. And he never did tone down all dat flirting. We stayed friends after the break up though. It a funny story, actually. A few years after we be friends he come in real excited one day and tell me dere was dis work celebration where dey had a communal marriage. So he a married man now, more or less."

Opalbane, who had almost been fooled into marrying Zar'teaus himself, raised a white eyebrow and said, "Ewww..."

"Ya was part of some 'corporate merger' Faltheriel said. He so weird. He wanted to do it, and ended up with like twenty wives and husbands from the Twilight Cultists, the Burning Legion, the Shadow Council... you name da crazy group of bad guys, dey in dere somewhere. Last time I talk to him, he seem really happy too. And you know what, for once he not flirt wit me or Pasha. He must really feel betta after all dese years."

After Alessandre managed to explain between his disturbed looks, Opalbane and the others started laughing. Yep, that sounded just like Faltheriel all right. Alessandre asked how Pasha was doing next.

"I found another Tauren hunter who had his head on straight, this time. That was long after Shia'jin convinced me to stop going to Club Thrall on Fridays though."

The Night Elves had no idea what the Club Thrall thing meant, and there was no way Alessandre was asking.

Pasha continued, "My sister and her boyfriend are still in Outland, but wearing epic arena gear. I decided for myself that it was morally wrong to continue pursuing my epic bow quest considering... Uh... that I have such nice gear already, and it truly isn't fair for a level seventy hunter to go through all that... Well, other than that, I have a little girl at home. Baby the pig died and we ate him. Took a whole week to do that. The week right after that, Shedevil had a bunch of puppies. For some reason that I can't explain, we wanted to call all of them Tanuki, so we did. I think I'll be breeding black Worgs from now on instead instead of pigs."

Alessandre translated once more and everyone cringed at Pasha's strange way of being a hunter. No, she had not changed at all either. Alessandre began telling Shia'jin about their sons, and how Feathershine and Shadowstep were now getting along.

While the others were catching up, Mae Ella who was starting to realize that it was going to be no fun raising her baby behind bars, and so came to the conclusion that having sex with various people so carelessly hadn't been such a good idea either, perked up beside her mother.

"Speaking of that Shadowstep guy... where is he? And Feathershine? Wasn't he gambling too?"

Alessandre and Wisthera sat up instantly from their conversation with Shia'jin and Pasha. "That bitter old bastard! He planned this whole thing!" they concluded together, and started banging on the bars to be let out. Pasha and Shia'jin yelled too, said that they were on vacation and that this wasn't unusually shabby treatment. Then, they confessed to Alessandre and the others that their old guild members were coming to get them out later and they should stand clear of the walls when they started hearing things explode upstairs. With very disturbed looks, the Alliance members of Shia'jin's family retreated back into their cell.

Thousands of miles above their annoying screaming relatives, retired Master Rogue Shadowstep and retired Priestess Feathershine sat before the quiet moonwell in the Temple of Elune in Darnassus.

Triumvir Myrielle Fadeleaf and Master Rogue Steamer stood nearby.

"Thank you for doing this one last favor for me, Myrielle." Shadowstep thanked her. Priestess Feathershine had finally learned of Shadowstep's plan. He'd just explained it to her, but it still didn't make sense and she was worried.

"No problem boss. Honestly, working with Wisthera and Alessandre isn't so bad, but they really do get too chummy sometimes. The triumvirate was getting lopsided, and I could really use this down time to balance things again. I'm glad you included me in your plans, whatever your reasons."

Stanley smiled too. "And Jebidiath... I guess we're even now. I needed to get revenge on those two, after you made me a laughing stock in front of the other Master Rogues. It was fair enough after I got Myrielle to usurp your power, but I never expected to lose face like that. Now I can go back to Ironforge after thirteen years of emasculation and humiliation..." he sighed with relief, "and do my work in peace."

Feathershine still looked quietly off into the distance. Shadowstep turned to her. "Enjoy your vacation, you two. But don't get carried away, like I did on my Wreathe Day. Treasure the time you have with the one you love." he rubbed Feathershine's back.

Myrielle and Stanley bid them goodbye and took hands. It would be a working vacation, but if they could spend at least that much time together to unravel a bit of Wisthera and Alessandre's corruption over the last decade or so, then they would make the best of it. The tall breathtaking woman and the short clever rogue left the temple and strode out into the daylight, smiling.

"We're married?" Feathershine asked Shadowstep again. "After all this time... we've been husband and wife? I thought... you said that you wouldn't trick me anymore."

"Yes I did. And I kept my word, Deliah, despite what you may think. Not only was that hardly veiled wedding ceremony High Priestess Tyrande gave us more than obvious, I told you afterward that I would tell you what I was up to, when you were ready." he took her hand. "Your relatives are far, far away, in a controlled environment where nothing bad could possibly happen to them. They are, one hundred percent, safe and sound. Nor can they influence your thinking by your going to them and asking them their opinion of me and my actions. It's not about making them happy anymore Deliah."

She hugged her bare arms. She was beautiful looking into the Moonwell, though she seemed too upset to realize it.

"Now that you know the truth, all of it, what do you think Deliah? You are my wife. That is the way I've always wanted you. I've done everything in my power over the last thirteen years to give you the life I always hoped to have with you. Are you happy to be my wife, at last? I've fixed it so that you can finally feel comfortable enough to tell me what you think, no guilt, no regret, no family influence whatsoever."

Feathershine wiped a tear from her eye. "But we can't... we waited too long to have children."

"Deliah, honestly! Do you really think I want to have kids! Yours are more than enough trouble."

"But I thought you wanted a perfect woman, a pure Priestess of Elune! I'm just... well, me. And, now I'm getting wrinkles."

"They're cute wrinkles... at the corner of your eyes," he kissed her lips, "and your mouth. It's you who I want as my other half, my companion for life. I had to be a little devious to do it, to make sure we didn't waste any time while I figured out a plan to make this all happen for real. In the end, I decided to do the wedding first in secret, and then afterward, take however many years necessary to maneuver the proper pieces into place. Do you forgive me for being so bold? Do you want me as your husband?"

Feathershine touched him timidly at first. She looked around them, but her family wasn't there. She couldn't let them down, and it was impossible for them to be disappointed. The best part was... thanks to Shadowstep it was not too late. It never had been. Something inside the conservative priestess snapped and she jumped on her lover. They fell into the moonwell groping each other.

"Yes! I love you, I'm crazy about you! I can't believe you did this for me, it's so romantic, so rash! Like we're teenagers again!" Bright blue water splashed all around them.

Shadowstep couldn't speak, he was so happy to have all her attention at last. He accepted her kisses gratefully, began to undress her...

Stories above them, a novice priestess named Luna bowed before High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind.

"I've done everything you've ever asked of me, High Priestess Tyrande, and more. I went out of my way to even heal an injured squirrel and an ant I found on the way to the temple, besides finishing my quest to heal that injured Sentinel in Dolanaar."

Tyrande scrutinized the novice Luna. This rose skinned and green-haired young woman looked very familiar.

"Why do you want to be a Priestess of Elune, child? Tell me honestly."

The young woman thought. "Well... my mother Windsong is a priestess. She was able to do a lot of good for the world. I want to help everyone that I can, and make the world a better place too. Besides, all the other soldier classes are inferior to ours. We are truly purehearted and honest. We clearly see the wrong in everything and make it right–"

"Have you got Lady Sathrah's spinarettes?" Tyrande interrupted the girl. The sounds of splashing and muffled excitement behind them might have interrupted the novice first but Tyrande was fully aware of what was going on. She intended to use it as a lesson.

"Yes, but that is a quest I have to turn into Priestess A'moora..."

"Nevermind that. I want you to go down to the moonwell, right now, and cleanse the spider's remains in the holy pool. Then come back and tell me of what you saw. Afterward, I will reward you myself."

The priestesses and Sentinels beside Tyrande tried not to laugh too much when they heard the moaning below them in the moonwell stop, then panicked yelps, and finally a poor young girl's frightened scream.

The novice came skulking back before Tyrande, her eyes wide.

"Now... about what you saw. Did you find anything wrong with it?"

Luna blushed. "It was horrible! To defile a moonwell like that, in the temple of Elune of all places! Those people... have they no regard, no respect for sacred things? It was vile!"

High Priestess Tyrande knelt before the girl. "The woman you saw, was Priestess Feathershine, one of our most obsessive priestesses and retired for a good reason. She trained your mother Windsong you know."

"She did?" Luna gasped.

Tyrande placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "There is nothing wrong with what those two are doing. Love is not so black and white, especially powerful, passionate love like theirs. It's curious, really... priests and rogues or... I guess in at least one situation, feral druids, make such explosive combinations. They seem to capture every aspect of life, the wild and the tame perfectly, like a tiny spectrum reflected off a water droplet caught in a spider's web."

"I... I don't understand, priestess?"

"No, few people understand Malfurion and I, or Shadowstep and Feathershine, Alessandre and Opalbane, or even Onyxbane and Wisthera. But I do. However imperfect love is, it is still beautiful and we are lucky if we can find it in our lives. Sometimes, we have to even become romancers, and claim it for ourselves."

"So... what is my reward?" Luna wondered next.

Tyrande smiled at her. "I am about to save you a lot of trouble, novice Luna. You are too much like your mother Windsong and that overbearing Priestess Feathershine who trained her. I wasn't sure at first when I heard that you were coming but then you failed my little test. There is no way I'm letting you become a priestess. You're far too lofty and obsessed, the way Feathershine was when she first came to me."

"WHAT?! But that's not fair! I already made the choice."

"Policy change. And you can tell your twin brother, son of your father Vermillion–that failure of a rogue--that I don't want him going anywhere near the Kaldorei Rogue Network." she handed the girl two slips of paper. "These are your referrals to the Warrior's Terrace. Darnassus needs more of those." she stood and smiled ingenuinely at her. "Now, good luck with your life and have a nice day."

Little Luna whimpered, and walked away.

A Sentinel nearby wiped sweat from her brow. "You sure can spot them, High Priestess! Do you think this new policy of screening new rogues and priests will work?"

"Of course it will. Unlike certain rogues and or druids and priestesses I just mentioned, and their spawn, I know what I'm doing. We don't need anymore Feathershines or Shadowsteps in this world."

"But aren't they in love and together? They seemed to get that part right, while you... I mean, isn't your Malfurion far off in another realm, imprisoned by Illidan in Outland–"

"I _know_ what I'm doing!" Tyrande stubbornly insisted. "Once I absolve that family's jail sentence in Triumvir Myrielle's absence, and those whelps are done being imprisoned they will have learned their lessons in humility. This annoying love story can finally end! We're just lucky that Feathershine and Shadowstep won't breed."

Yes, perhaps it was a little mean of her to say. But High Priestess Tyrande was a friend to both priests and rogues in the end. She saw it begin with Deliah Feathershine and Jebidiath Shadowstep almost a hundred years ago, and she knew better than anyone else that it needed to resolve itself at last.

It was a happy ending, with everyone getting what they needed. And what greater blessing is there in life, than to be happy because you are loved so well?

Grinning, Feathershine and Shadowstep walked hand in hand out of the Temple of Elune. Their clothes were soaked, but it didn't matter. Perhaps they'd learned about romance the hard way, but the important thing was, that they'd learned.

THE END


End file.
